


Red Mage: Rebellion

by Syran



Series: Red Mage: Rebellion [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, FFXV AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6397183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syran/pseuds/Syran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being on the run from the powerful Imperials for years, Mark and Jackson find themselves finally facing them and their menecing army once again as the two are forced to confront the conspiracy that made them run in the first place. However, with the five friends that they made along the way, they feel that the seven of them can survive anything.... maybe even the darkness that they've been hiding from each other.</p><p>Got 7 in a Final Fanasy XV AU.... YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE A FAN OF FF OR HAVE SEEN THE DEMO TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY!! IT IS JUST A SETTING!!! NO LORE USED!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forward

**Author's Note:**

> So.... I was watching the FFXV demo and I was taking in the world that they built. It was mixture of modern day and fanasy tropes. It was like you were walking just beyond the silver railing of a highway and then... BAM... there were behemoths, bombs and chocobos just out in the distance. Except there were no silver railings and the wilderness and roads flowed with one another. I LOVED IT!!  
> Then I got to thinking... JB would make an awesome Dragoon, then I thought that Jr. would make a good Black Mage and Bam Bam is perfect for a theif and Jackson would be an awesome berserker... then this happened.  
> Plus I've been dying to write a GOT7 adventure fic and this was perfect. Hope you enjoy!!!!!

The young boy looked up wide eyed as a finger was brought to his lips, its owner making a shushing sound. The boy nodded at the man, placing both of his pudgy hands over his scarred lips and crooked nose. The two of them squeezed further behind the large computer they were hiding behind. He could feel the older man clench him closer to his armored chest. The chainmail was pressing coolly into the thin material of his oversized ripped sweater and as the man pressed his hand further into his chest to pull him closer; the boy wondered if he could feel how hard his heart was hammering in his chest. The boy could definitely feel the other’s racing heart.

“Is it over,” the boy whispered between his fingers.

The man shook his head and put a finger to his mouth this time, “Be quiet, kid.” The boy nodded and squeezed his hands tighter around his mouth.

The two waited behind the supercomputer, both listening for sound in the silence. The boy finally sagged against the chest behind him. It was dead quiet... then there were footsteps.

The boy sucked in a frightened gasp, but was cut short as the man behind him placed a thick hand over the boy’s own and dragged him further into the shadows. They both were tense as the steps grew closer, an unnatural blue light weeping quickly pass their faces from the other side of the computer. The boy whimpered from behind the hand as the light washed over them again and a tear fell as more of them wet his cheeks and the top of the man’s fingers.

The light quickly snapped away from them and the man pulled the boy closer to him so that the boy’s ear was near his lips. “It’s going to be ok,” the man whispered, almost breathed into his ear, “I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”

The boy nodded as his whimpering slowed, believing the man’s every word. He went to lean into the cold chainmail once more, to show the man that he trusted him, but as he leaned he found himself landing on the floor instead as the man behind him was snatched from behind the computer by his collar.

“NO,” the boy screamed, his hope shattering in front of him.


	2. Chapter 1

Jackson jerked awake, sweat dripping from his brow and his blond mop clinging to his forehead. His thoughts were scattered as he searched around him, eyes darting around as his hands reached for his sword. His hand was met by soft skin instead and his mind instantly soothed. “Mark,” he thought as his breathing slowed and his mind reminded him that it was just a dream. He squeezed his hand around the bicep he grabbed during his panic and shook it a little. “Mark,” he voiced this time. The other grunted to let Jackson know he was listening. “I’m headed out,” he said as he ran a shaking hand through his hair, “Don’t worry it’s almost daybreak.”

Mark peeked his head above the folded arms he was buried in to see the warm colors of a sunrise bleed through the army green of their ratty tent. “’Kay,” he mumbled, “Be safe.” With that he stuffed his head back between his arms and fell back to sleep.  
Jackson nodded - although he knew that the other couldn’t see it - grabbed his jacket and ran from out the tent. He breathed in deeply before sighing just as deeply. It’s been a while since he last had that nightmare.

Needing to calm down, he let his eyes lazily run over the rolling plains and scattered plateaus that surrounded him. He felt a strange sense of peace as he watched the sun make its way into the sky, the clouds colored in pinks and oranges. He sat there for a while, letting the masterful sunrise sooth his still shaky nerves.

A while later the tent behind him flapped open, Mark walking out and tossing a bottle of water in his direction. Jackson easily caught it, never turning from the now fully lit horizon in front of him. He sipped from the water just as absentmindedly.  
Mark glanced over to his friend. His blond hair was still in complete disarray, much like his own actually, but he knew that his mused cherry locks were due to a good night’s sleep. Jackson’s was most likely due to the man hastily running his fingers through is hair like he was prone to do when he was frustrated or scared. Plus the water in the bottle he held sloshed around as Jackson’s hand shook. “You ‘kay,” Mark asked.

Jackson looked over to the other before quickly looking away and giving a curt nod. “Um hum,” he hummed. He didn’t need to look at his friend to see the unimpressed eyebrow rise, but he knew that the red would take him for his word anyway and leave it alone. He appreciated that about Mark.

“If you say so,” Mark returned.

“I say so,” Jackson snapped before sighing and taking another swig of his water, “I’m headed out. Maybe see if I can sneak another free shower from out of the inn. Coming with?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Nah,” he answered. His nonchalance was false but much appreciated. “Numbers aren’t really strength when it comes to stealing.”

“Touché, but I were hoping you were going to join me,” Jackson teased, a smile on his face.

“No you weren’t,” Mark smirked. They both knew that he was right, but the banter kept them going. “Just be back before you’re missed. We gotta figure out breakfast.”

“Got it.” With that Jackson skated down the plateau that they were camping on, breaking into a run once he feet touched the grass. He could hear Mark’s yell of ‘be careful’ right before he broke through the trees and disappeared from Mark’s sight.

“That boy’s going to get himself killed one of these days,” Mark mumbled to himself as he began to place a seal around their tent and head in the opposite direction in search of a shower of his own.

\-------------------------

Jackson grunted as he pulled himself up onto the ledge and through the window. He cursed his booted feet as they made a heavy thud once he finally made it inside, but sighed in relief once he realized that the room he climbed in was empty. He dipped within the shadows that the curtains made in the room, glad that the room’s owners decided against the lights. Ducking from shadow to shadow, he made his way across the large penthouse suite he managed to climb his way up to. He finally made it to the bedroom only to pause once he found out that the suite wasn’t as empty as he once thought. Snuggled beneath the sheets of the oversized room laid a young man, his chocolate hair much too filthy for him to have bought the room from his own merits. Jackson smiled as he looked down at the sleeping man. His face was soft and young despite his long, lanky body. Jackson suspected the boy to be nothing more than nineteen. “And already living a life of crime,” Jackson thought.

He shook his head as he continued his trek to the shower, a little less cautious then he was before. Jackson was fairly sure that the boy wouldn’t rat him out, but he kept his hand close to the massive sword that sat in the middle of his shoulder blades just in case stealing wasn’t the boy’s only finer attributes. He made it to the bathroom no problem, checking the lock on the window just in case he had to make a hasty exit. He locked the door once he noticed that the window was unlocked and silently berated himself for not taking the bathroom window instead. He was really slipping.

Shaking his head at his stupidity, the swordsman decided to just let it go, rolling his neck before detaching his blade from his shoulders and sitting it next to the shower. He groaned in relief as he took a seat on the toilet, unbuckling his boots and tossing them plus his spare clothes across the room. Next to come was his pants and shirt, his dark blue boxers following soon after.  
Jackson then just sat there for a moment. He let the water run warm, his elbows resting on his bare knees, looking at all the golden and marble fixtures that made up the luxurious bathroom. He finally let the tension drain from body, his mind still on the dream he had the night before. No matter what he told Mark, he wasn’t ok. He hasn’t been for a long time.

Finally deeming the water warm enough, Jackson finally decided to take his shower. He figured he’d take his time. He was in no rush. Plus he was sure that even if someone did enter the room, they would be too interested in the kid in the bed to care about the faint sound of water running in the background. He hummed absentmindedly as he washed using stolen soap, scrubbing at mud and green blood that splattered on him the night before.

“Can you hurry up in there? I need to shower too, you know?”

Jackson paused scrubbing his bicep, his eyebrow raised as a smile blossomed on his face. “Not quite yet,” he yelled back, scrubbing once more, “Have you seen some of the shit out there? It takes forever to scrub their innards off.”

“Tell me about it.” Jackson heard the boy mutter before he started banging on the door once more. “Fine,” the boy continued, “Can I at least take a piss?”

“Are you really that cool just flashing your dick out like that?”

“It’s not like I’ll ever see you again or anything.”

Jackson laughed at the boy’s response but found himself nodding none-the-less, “Go ahead, I’ll keep the door shut. Can you bring a towel while you’re at it?”

The door opened and closed; the voice closer to Jackson when the boy spoke again. “Get your own towel. ‘M not your maid,” the boy shouted over the water. Jackson rolled his eyes at the immature response but did nothing else. The toilet flushed and the sink ran before the boy started speaking to him once again. “Nice sword you got there.”

“Touch it and I’ll kill you,” Jackson shouted conversationally over the water, “And trust me kid, I don’t need my sword to kill you.”

“I believe you,” the boy said and Jackson smiled at the shrug he could hear in the boy’s voice. His mustn’t be the first threat he’s heard today. “I pick my fights wisely,” the other continued, “And if you caring that massive thing while climbing to the penthouse suite is any indication, fighting you wouldn’t be too wise.”

“Smart boy,” Jackson praised.

“Gotta be if you’re going to survive out here.” Jackson gave a thoughtful frown at the other soft murmurs, his fingers slowing in his shampoo covered hair. He rinsed it out as he continued to pout. However he was cut off from his musing as the boy spoke again.

“Nice boots too,” he yelled, intending for Jackson to hear this time, “Steel toe, nice. Are you some type of soldier or something? These are Imperial issued, right?”

Jackson shut off the water, the bathroom feeling exceedingly empty without the running water to feel in the tense silence. “What do you know about the Imperials,” Jackson spoke clearly into the silence, the mirth in his voice gone. Jackson could hear the thud of his boot as the boy dropped it and the subtle sound of a knife leaving a sheath. Jackson sighed at the sound, pulling the curtain back and standing in front of the boy in his naked glory, palms facing out. “Put the knife away, kid.”

“How did you,” the boy began as he pull his dagger from behind his back and looked at both Jackson and it in awe. He still did as he was told and put the dagger back into its leather sheath. “I didn’t mean anything by it. The Imperials fuck everybody over. I should know better than to bring them up to a stranger.”

“You should,” Jackson agreed as he put his hands down, using them instead to reach for a hand towel to dry himself off with. He then turned to the boy, gesturing towards the leather sheath that was strapped to his thigh, “You should think about getting magnets instead. Anyone worth killing could hear that metal on leather from a mile away. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“Oh you mean like this hunk of junk,” the boy smirked as he gestured to Jackson’s sword in the corner.

“You were just complimenting this ‘hunk of junk’, not too long ago.”

The boy shrugged as he walked up to the sword, his finger trailing along the wild waves that dance along the midnight blue hilt. He then followed the blunt side of the blade, his fingers dipping and curving as the blade twist and turned like a giant wave in a restless sea. The navy-tinted steel reflected the boy’s entranced face, the reflection winding and distorting as it glided across the surface.

“Pretty to look at but not too practical if you ask me,” the young man shrugged with a teasing smirk.

“It gets the job done,” Jackson smirked as well. He turned from the boy, moving around potions and ethers to pluck his clothes from his bag. He could feel the eyes of his companion as they bored into his exposed back, the eyes following him as he pulled on his black cargo pants and ripped tank. He could feel the boy’s shock. Jackson could tell that no one’s trusted him enough to turn their backs on him before. The blond didn’t know if he should be impressed or depressed. “Besides,” he continued as if he didn’t feel the boy’s burning eyes, “I don’t need to be practical. I can handle whatever mistakes I come across.”

He turned back to the other to see his shoulders slightly relax as he laughed, “So let me guess, you just go berserk on anything that comes your way?”

“Pretty much,” Jackson shrugged as he strapped on his harness and placed his sword back between his shoulder blades once more, “And you just steal the solution to whatever problem you come across.”

“Touché,” the boy shrugged in return. Jackson laughed at the boy before grabbing his bag and heading towards the bathroom door. “Hey,” the boy yelled before Jackson could reach for the knob, his face surprisingly bashful. Jackson didn't think that the boy had it in him. “Sneaking some breakfast from downstairs later," he said, "Want me to save you some?”

“Didn’t think you’d be so kind.”

“I’m usually not,” the boy began, “But you know.” The boy stopped himself short before turning his back towards Jackson and stepping into the shower. Jackson knew exactly what he meant.

“Ok,” he said as dirty clothes where tossed out from above the shower door, “But I have someone waiting for me. Just leave it at the blind spot near the side entrance in fifteen. I’ll be there to pick it up.”

“Fifteen,” the boy shouted over the shower, “It took you fifteen just for you to get finished showering! How do you expect me to get done showering and lift me, you and your friend some food in fifteen minutes?”

Jackson smiled when he mentioned Mark too. He made the right decision to trust this kid after all. “I pretty sure you’re good at what you do, kid. I trust you to get it down there in time.” With that Jackson shut the door behind him and began his long climb from the penthouse suite, but not before hearing a small ‘trust me’ from behind the shower door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting to both this site and Asian Fanfics as I write new chapters. If you want to see a chapter a day early, I suggest subscribing to the story on Asian Fanfics. It's under the same title and my pen name is syran-night.


	3. Chapter 2

Jackson hissed, pulling his hand back and frowning at the blue ripple that spread across the force field in front of his tent. He poked it again, hissing once more as a shock ran from his fingertip throughout his entire hand. He cursed out loud this time, pulling his red finger into his mouth. “Seriously, why this damn barrier hurts so damn much when I touch it,” Jackson mumbled to himself with his finger still in his mouth.

“Why the hell do you keep touching it if you know it hurts so much?” Mark answered. The red sighed when he saw Jackson jump, the bag of seemingly fresh food the other was holding almost dropping to the ground when he did. Mark reached over to catch it before it could, opening it and finding out that he was right. It was a bag of fresh food. “Where the hell did you get this from,” Mark asked as he plucked a warm bun from out of it and took a bite.

“A friend,” Jackson mouthed off, snatching the bag back from the red head, “And don’t sneak up on me like that!” He then snatched the bun from the other’s mouth and pointed to the barrier, “Now how about you stop bs-ing and take down the ‘I hate Jackson even though I was created to protect him’ barrier. I seriously think that your magic is trying to tell me something, Mark.”

“Well, to be fair,” Mark said after he whispered the de-barrier spell to himself, “It’s only my electrical magic that hates you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sword you’re carrying around is for more than just show.”

Jackson rolled his eyes as he walked inside the tent tossing his sword on his sleeping bag in a huff. “What are you trying to say,” he yelled to Mark who was still outside, “Am I some type of monster to you or something?”

Knelling on the ground outside, Mark laughed at the pout in Jackson’s voice that he just knew was also on his face. He paused in his whisperings before yelling, “Well to be fair, dragoons have an elemental affiliation. Why not you?”

“Trust me,” Jackson said as he stepped out of the tent and dropped the food between them, his voice soft, “I’m no dragoon.” He then stood beside Mark, watching the other man work. “What are you doing?”

Mark took the subject change in stride. After traveling with the man for two years, he knew when Jackson didn’t want to talk about something anymore. He instead continued to finger the circular carvings beneath his feet. “I’m making sure that the runes are safe for the next person that decides to camp here.”

“So, aka you’re wasting your MP,” Jackson asked, his face scrunched up in a pout.

“Seriously, it’s called common courtesy, Jacks,” Mark answered without looking up, “It’s a Black Mage’s duty to keep these runes up and running. They were the first sign of trust from Zyraion and their mages and the gesture led to centuries of peace between them, Riel and Empire City. It’s a mage’s job to continue to maintain that trust.”

“What trust,” Jackson said as he rolled his eyes and rubbed at this sleeveless wrist, “The Three Nations have been at each other’s throats for years now.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jacks,” Mark sighed, “Besides without these, those without magic wouldn’t be able to travel safely without being attacked.”

Jackson gave another eye roll at Mark’s textbook response before kneeling beside the muttering red and staring at the runes as well. “Alright, I’ll entertain you. Why do they have to be maintained? Do these runes run out of magic or something,” Jackson questioned with a shrug. Honestly the swordsman was actually quite intrigued. Jackson didn’t know too much about magic or the runes. He just knew that they were ancient and powerful enough to keep the roaming ‘wildlife’ away at night.

“Run out wouldn’t be the right word for it,” Mark said as rubbed his fingers over the many circles and arcs carved into the plateau beneath them. His hand tingled as he touched it, feeling the rock humming with power, so much so that his own shied away from it. No matter how many times he’s done this, the sheer abundance of unprecedented power that he felt radiating from the rock always fascinated him... and slightly terrified him. “No, definitely not running out any time soon,” Mark continued speaking, though more to himself than to Jackson now, “I doubt the magic that created this rune could ever leave this rock. I would say ‘break’ would be a better word. If not kept in check the runes can break, then you’ll have a rock filled to the brim with ancient power, but no directions on how to use it. Free magic so to speak – really powerful free magic.”

“Uh huh,” Jackson hummed and Mark could practically taste the complete defeat in Jackson’s voice. He was forced to stifle a laugh as the blonde laid flat beside him, his confusion written so plainly on his face. Mark finally cracked at the bewildered look. It wasn’t very often that he saw it on Jackson. The man was rather smart, but magic got the look to appear on the swordsman’s face every single time. “This stuff is confusing,” Jackson bellowed, “How do you even understand it?”

“The same as your swordsmanship, I guess,” Mark shrugged finally leaning back from the runes, his hands still buzzing. He gave them a shake before turning to Jackson and giving him a devious smirk, “Practice.” Jackson gave him an affronted look for his dirty joke and Mark laughed once more but his face was somewhat more serious. “I’m serious!”

“You so full of shit,” Jackson said with a frown before smirking himself. Discreetly he grabbed a bun from out of his bag, shoving it in Mark’s mouth, “I rather you use your mouth for eating instead of spewing crap like that.”

“What the truth,” Mark asked with his mouth still full. He then took the bite and laughed. “Honestly, I thought you’d rather I do other things with my mouth,” he smirked. The red laughed before he continued to eat his bun, almost choking on it as Jackson wiggled his eyebrows in the most sexually suggestive way possible.

“That is when its best utilized but I just got out the shower and climbing that inn once was tiring enough.”

“Fair enough,” Mark chuckled as he sipped from a bottle of water, “At least you got the inn. I had to climb into some old lady’s house. I almost knocked over her pie twice. I’m pretty sure she now thinks that there are pie-moving spectrums in her house.”

“What,” Jackson asked as he dug into the bag, smiling when he found a burger miraculously inside, “She thinks she’s on the ghost train or something.” Jackson tore into a burger before he paused and gave Mark the most mischievous smirk he could muster, “Think I can suplex it?”

Mark gave Jackson a dirty look. The blond knew how much he hated that urban myth, “And you say I’m full of shit.” Jackson just laughed louder, throwing his head back before taking another bite of his burger after he’d calm down. “Seriously,” Mark said after watching Jackson wolf his burger, “Where did you get that from?”

“The bag,” he began before he saw the glare burn in Mark’s eyes. He held his hands up, palms out for a second time that day and started again. “A friend, Markie. That’s really all I can tell you.”

“Fine, okay,” Mark sighed. He trusted the other with his life, but a straight forward answer every now and then would be much appreciated by the red. “But is your friend going to feed us again, because we don’t have any food or any gil left, Jacks.”

“Sorry, but it was only a onetime thing,” Jackson shrugged. He pulled out another burger and unwrapped it before handing it to Mark. He could tell that the other was going to hesitate and insist that the blonde ate it so he shoved it into his mouth before he could. “I mean,” he said once he was satisfied that Mark ate more than just a roll, “We could take on some quests.”

Mark gave him another dirty glare and Jackson couldn’t tell if it was for shoving a burger down his throat or for suggesting that they take on quests with the little supplies that they had. “We’re going to fucking die if you keep saying dumb shit like that.” Apparently it was for the quest suggestion. “We got like, what,” Mark began, “Two potions between the two of us, one ether? The same ether I need if I’m going to keep these runes from breaking.”

“I know we’re low on supplies, but hear me out. We take on something big,” Jackson spoke, “One quest. All or nothing.”  
Mark raised an eyebrow, “Are you serious?”

“Deadly so,” Jackson answered.

Mark took a look at his friend before he laid out on the smooth surface of the plateau behind him. The red crossed his fingers behind his head and looked to the sky above them as if he was in deep thought. The two laid in silence for a moment before Mark finally let out a breathless laugh, “You’re fucking crazy, Jacks.”

“Yeah, but so are you,” Jackson returned with a knowing grin. He further stretched out on the rock below, the two of them watching languidly as the clouds above floated by. “You’re doing this, you already know you are.”

Mark sighed, before letting out the most devious smile Jackson has seen on him for a long while. “Of course I’m doing this. So, what kinda quest do you have in mind?”  
\---------------  
“A Behemoth, Jackson,” Mark bellowed, “Really!” Mark nearly growled at the shrug he was given in return and he was half tempted to just start the car and drive off without the other. They’ve both done some outrageous things in the past to survive, but never have they had to do something so risky. “It’s practically suicide, Jacks. We’ll die before we ever see a single gil!”

Jackson took a quick peek from the trunk of their old convertible before rolling his eyes and returning to packing the duffle bag with their gear. “Get over yourself, Mark,” he yelled with his head still in the trunk, “We’ll be fine.” Jackson let a smile out when he heard the other grumble back in denial. He expected for Mark to put up a fight when he told him of the quest he saw posted in the mini mart the other day. He also knew that Mark would agree to it. Though they joked around, they both knew how dire their position truly was. They couldn’t keep stealing forever. They were already wanted by one of the Three Nations. They couldn’t become criminals in the only place left for them to hide as well.

“It’s not even just that, Jacks,” Mark sighed. Jackson could tell that the other was being serious now so he quickly tossed in his sword and Mark’s quiver into the back before shutting the trunk and meeting the other in the passenger seat so he could look the red in the eyes. “This is a high profile quest,” the other continued once Jackson was finally in the car, “What if the Imperials catch wind of it?”

“That would be true if we were somewhere else,” Jackson nodded, “But we’re in the middle of nowhere. The only thing of note out here is that damn inn and those runes. There’s no reason for any Imperials to be anywhere near here. That’s why we ran out here in the first place, remember?”

Mark nodded knowing that what the other said was true. After their last encounter with some new Imperial recruits further north in Ingale, the two decided to head south towards Riel and stay in one of the smaller villages between the two bigger cities. They ended up in Ferin, a small hick town with more plains than actual town, before they were forced to leave there too once the inn fee of 40 gil per night was getting too rich for their blood. They moved to the outskirts of the town instead, camping on the runes that dotted the area and hunting the local wildlife for food when stealing became too much.

Mark knew that they were nowhere near the Imperial reach, but that wasn’t enough for Mark. To him it was as if the Imperials were everywhere and no matter how much he ran they were always right behind him. “We thought that the last time,” Mark said as he finally put his key in the ignition and started the hour long drive back into Ferin, “And we were wrong.”

“No, I was wrong. I was too careless,” Jackson frowned and Mark instantly wanted to tell the blonde to stop blaming himself for that run in, “I didn’t think that they would train their rookies so far from Empire City. Honestly, I didn’t think that their reach ran as far down as Ingale, but I know better now. If it’s on the northern half of the continent, then they’re under the Imperials watch.”

“Then what makes you think that they wouldn’t be here too,” Mark questioned as he drove along the winding road, slowing to a stop for the small guard hound pups that hobbled across.

Jackson leaned over the side of the car, cooing at the pups as they cross, “Man if you guys weren’t an extra mouth to feed I would so keep all of you.” Mark rolled his eyes and let Jackson coo, knowing that he would have to wait for his answer. The blonde finally stopped once all the pups passed finally turning to Mark to answer him, “They won’t be here because this town is under the protection of Riel. Sending troops here would be a declaration of war. Neither of us is worth that.”

Mark gave a sigh. If only Jackson knew. “I suppose you’re right,” the red said instead. He increased his stepped on the gas once the last pup passed, continuing their ride into town. He checked his rear view mirror to insure that nothing was sneaking up from behind. “Wait,” Mark said as he saw the trail of puppies get smaller in the mirror, “Where’s their mother?” It was rare to see a trail of guard hound pups without their protective mother close by. He almost missed the anomaly, too busy waiting for Jackson’s response.

“My guess is inside a Behemoth’s stomach,” Jackson shrugged. Mark gave the blonde a dirty look and an annoyed frown. “What,” Jackson asked, “It’s the truth. I mean when have you ever seen a pack of pups without their mom?”

“I’m pretty sure that there were so many better ways for to say that,” Mark sighed. Jackson just gave the other one of his boyish smiles and shrugged. “Anyway,” he said, frankly ignoring Jackson’s ‘charm’, “That must mean it’s close to town.”

“That’s what Min told me,” Jackson said. He leaned back in the seat, letting his arm hang from the open window with his feet planted on the dashboard. “She said they’re scared. The people that lived closer to the outskirts are moving into the plains. They hope to get some protection from the runes.”

“So that’s why we had a hard time finding somewhere to camp,” Mark added, “This is more serious than I thought.”

“Exactly,” Jackson agreed. He turned to Mark, watching as his red hair whipped wildly with the rushing winds. “I mean, it has to be. This hick town’s paying 300,000 gil to whoever kills it and brings back its horn.”

“300,000 gil,” Mark questioned. He nearly lost control of the car when he turned to Jackson with wide disbelieving eyes and was only saved when the blonde grabbed the wheel and stirred them back on track. “Sorry about that.” Jackson chuckled at the mumbled apology. “But c’mon Jacks, can this town even generate that much gil?”

“Apparently they can,” Jackson said. Actually Jackson had the same reaction when he heard of the amount they were willing to shell out just for a Behemoth cleaning. He remembered asking Min, the store clerk, a similar question too. It just doesn’t seem possible, even with the impressive inn. “Min told me that they pooled all their money together, apparently. They’re most likely expecting the large reward to gander some attention.”

Mark frowned. There was only one reason why they would go to such desperate measures. It was starting to kill people. “They really want this thing gone,” he whispered.

“Then let’s get rid of it for them.”

Mark paused after Jackson spoke, the serious determination in his voice clueing him to why the swordsman really wanted to take this quest. It wasn’t about the gil and it wasn’t about survival. He wanted to save these people. “Let’s do it then,” he decided to say. If Jackson wanted to play hero then he’ll play with him.

\-------------

“Min-Min!” Jackson burst into the store, the bell ringing in protest from his harsh push. He bounced into store as Mark watched with a fond smile. Running into shelves and knocking over chips, he ran to the counter and showed a bright smile to the woman behind it. “I know you hear me, Min-Min!”

“Oh, trust me I heard you.” A short, round-faced woman turned from where she was stacking the shelf behind her. She leaned over the counter, her arms folded under her bosom and head cocked to the side. She gave her caller a raised eyebrow. “What did I tell you ‘bout coming into my store and starting trouble,” she asked. She stopped the blonde as he opened his mouth to answer. “I told you not to, remember,” she answered for him.

“Of course I remember,” Jackson cooed. He let his eyes roam down her unzipped overalls briefly, licking his lips before looking back up. He smirked when his eyes met hers again. “How can I forget,” he asked slyly, “Where were we again when you said that? Was it the back storage room or the garage?” He grabbed the edge of counter and leaned back to dodge the hit she aimed at him. She had a mean right hook. “But I didn’t come here to reminisce, sweetheart,” he said once the coast was clear, “I wanted to ask you about the Behemoth quest. Markie and I want to take it.”

“I believe it was in the garage on the hood of your car.” Jackson smiled at the reply. He loved her confidence and unapologetic attitude. It was one of the reasons he took her to the garage to begin with, the constantly unzipped overalls being another. “Can’t help you with the quest though. Somebody else already claimed it.”

“What do you mean?” The two at the counter turned to Mark as he spoke and stocked menacingly to the counter, his bow in his hands. Min’s eyes widen as she gave the red a nervous frown. “Just tell me what you mean.” He let his shoulders droop at her rare expression. The two weren’t as ‘close’ as her and Jackson was, but he still had a soft spot for her and he didn’t want to truly scare her.

“Well,” the store clerk began, “You’re too late.” The two boys looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Min. She sighed and bent under her desk, plopping a clipboard in front of Jackson. The two boys looked at the quest request form with a frown. “Someone else already signed a contract. You guys know the rules. I can’t give the quest over to you unless they fail. The contract gives them three days. Just wait it out.”

“I don’t think you get it, Min,” Jackson frowned. He pushed the clipboard back across the counter. “We don’t have the time to wait. We need the gil right now.”

“I hear you,” Min answered, “But there’s nothing I can do.”

Jackson sighed and backed away from the counter. What were they going to do without this quest? He looked over his shoulder to Mark, the two boys sharing a frown. “Add us to the contract,” Mark said after a pause. Both Jackson and Min looked at the boy as if he was crazy. “I didn’t stutter,” he added once he saw their disbelieving faces, “Put Jacks and I on the contract.”

“Are you crazy,” the girl said, “I can’t do that! Cid would have my head if I do.”

“I’ll have your head if you don’t,” Mark responded. He pointed the sharp end of his bow to her throat but Jackson grabbed his wrist and slammed his hand on the desk, shaking his head. “But,” Mark began.

“Don’t,” Jackson said, “Just don’t.” He let go of Mark’s wrist, the red pulling his bow back to his side. “Look Minnie,” Jackson began, “Just do what he says. We’re at the end of our rope here. I know you don’t want any trouble, but trust me when I say that Markie can do a lot more damage than your old man can.”

Min whimpered as she looked between the boys and the back room that she knew her adopted father, Cid, slept in. She then took a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging and lips in a pout. “Fine,” she said, “Fine, I’ll put your names on the contract, but if you succeed and the other guys are still alive, you’re only allowed half of the reward.”

“Vice versa, right,” Mark asked.

“Yeah,” she gulped, “Vice versa.” She then pushed the clipboard to the boys once more, handing Jackson a pen. “And I can’t guarantee that these guys won’t mind being jipped like this.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Mark said, “We can handle ourselves.” He fitted his bow across his back as he said the words. “If they got a problem with our ‘help’ we’ll solve it.”

“I don’t know this time,” Min said as she turned worried eyes to Jackson.

Jackson paused after signing his name onto the contract, Mark reaching over him to do the same. He looked at her, “What do you mean, Minnie?”

“These two are different,” she began, “They look tough, I mean really tough.” She looked down at the names written in neat cursive along the bottom the form, prompting them to look too. The two boys stared at the names ‘Im Jaebum’ and ‘Park Jinyoung’ as she continued to speak. “One of them, the ‘Jaebum’ one had a lance, like my old man. The other one, he was the scariest. He had no weapon, but you can just feel the power coming off of him in waves. These guys are no joke-“

“Wait,” Jackson interrupt. His face was scrunched up in a contemplative frown with his eyebrows meeting in the middle as he stared down at the first signature. “You said the ‘Jaebum’ guy had a lance?” The two boys looked at each other when Min nodded. “You don’t think,” Jackson began as he watched Mark, the red nodding, “A dragoon?”

“And the other one,” Mark said, frowning at the paper, “’Power in waves and no weapon? Not even a staff? He’s gotta be a Black Mage – a trained one. Even good White Mages at least have staffs.”

“That don’t make any sense,” Jackson said. Sighing, he stood fully from the desk and pushed Mark away from the counter and Min’s eyesight before he spoke to the other in hushed tones. “The Imperials and Zyraions are supposed to hate each other. What the hell is an Imperial General and a Zyraionian Black Mage doing traveling together – in the middle of nowhere!”

Mark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Things were starting to get out of hand. If dragoons were in the area it meant that the Imperial Army was too. They had run, but they had no funds to run with. “Look,” the red said, “Let’s just do this and go. We keep low, kill the Behemoth and run for the hills. This place is getting too hot for us, Jacks.”

“I hear you nice and clear.” Jackson nodded. He then ran up to the desk, startling Min in the process. “Don’t worry about us.”

“You guys are idiots,” she whined and Jackson gave her a kiss on her cheek for her troubles.

“We know,” Jackson smiled. He ruffled the girl’s hair before giving her a dimmed, sincere smile and met his friend outside the store. The bell on the door ringed shut as it closed behind her. Min slumped on the table after the sound, placing her clipboard back into the draw.  
\---------  
Mark sat back on the roof of his car with his eyes closed, the warmed metal bleeding into his ripped white tank-top and warming his back. He popped a chip into his mouth, licking the cheese residue from off his finger before reaching for another one, a sigh coming from his lips. It’s been a while since the last time he had a bag of chips. A shadow loomed over him but his kept his eyes closed, his clean fingers plucking the string of his bow in warning.

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Jackson rolled on the car beside the other, plucking chips from his bag. “When you snatch these,” he asked with his mouth full.

“When you knocked them over,” Mark replied before downing another chip. “I think I’m getting too good at this ‘stealing’ thing.”  
Jackson laughed as he ate another chip before turning on his side to face Mark. “No, you’re getting better at the whole ‘acting’ thing.” He nudged the red in the shoulder with his clean hand before rolling back on his back and smiling towards the blue sky. “Nice bad cop in there, man.” Mark shrugged with his eyes still closed, but his lips tilted in a mischievous smirk. “You really had her going man. She really thought that you were going to cut her.”

“Maybe,” Mark said, “She did have sex on the top my car. That’s worth killing someone for.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jackson began, “We didn’t have to pay for the oil change she did. Plus I made her wax it after hand.”

“Glad to know you always got my back,” Mark snorted. He rolled his eyes when Jackson yelled ‘anytime’ and hopped off the roof, the blonde following him. “Ready to hunt a Behemoth,” he asked as he hopped over the passenger door and into the seat. He tossed Jackson the keys as the swordsman rounded the car, Jackson easily snatching them out of the air.

“Of course I am,” Jackson said. He popped open the door and hopped behind the wheel, smiling wildly as his hands caressed it.

“You know you don’t let me drive that often.”

“Thought I’d be a friend and fulfill your dying wish,” Mark sassed as he put his feet on the dashboard and crossed his arms behind his head. Jackson laughed as he put the key in the ignition and drove back to the outskirts of town in search for the Behemoth’s latest snack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know not too much happened in this chapter, but I really just wanted Jackson and Mark to just shoot the shit a little bit. I wanted you to get a feel of what their relationship is like so when it starts to change, you can see it. They're homies right now. JJProject sliding through next chapter. I'm having fun writing this. (Also comment if you caught the FFVI reference in there) Hoped you enjoyed and commment if you did.


	4. Chapter 3

Mark wiped the sweat from his forehead, using his wrist to push his sweaty bangs from out of his eyes. He could feel his thighs screaming in protest with each step in the grass he took, the sun overhead beating down. The strap of his quiver felt restricting across his chest, his bow heavy in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to be inside or even in his car. “I can’t believe we just left my car there,” Mark said as he pulled on his strap in hopes of loosening it. He was pretty sure that was the fifth time he said that and he was also pretty sure that was the fifth time Jackson gave him an annoyed look from over his shoulder. The blonde didn’t bother with a reply this time, though, deciding to ignore the red instead. Mark cracked a smile at the non-response and decided to annoy the other more. “It must have been because you were too heavy on the pedal,” Mark said and smirked when he heard the other sigh, “You see this is why I don’t let you drive.”

“Or or,” Jackson began. He came to a sharp halt, turning and flailing his arms about. “It could’ve been because it just ran out of gas. Geez Mark.”

“Calm down,” Mark laughed, reaching to pat the fuming man on the shoulder, “I’m just messing with you.” Jackson shrugged off the hand but still deflated at Mark’s friendly smile. It still didn’t stop him from throwing a pout his way as he stomped away dramatically, though. “Oh, c’mon Jacks,” Mark laughed as he jogged to catch him in vain, “I’m just joking! You know I love you, right!”

“Keep your love,” Jackson yelled back over his shoulder as he continued to walk ahead.

Mark went to follow the drama king before he stopped in his tracks, his boot making a wet sound when it came down. He pulled his foot up and looked behind him to only see that the bottom of his boot was covered in a deep maroon. The entire bottom of his sole was covered in blood. “Hey Jacks,” he yelled as kneeled down to the blood splatter in the grass, “You might wanna see this.”

“No Markie,” Jackson yelled back, “I think you might wanna see this.”

Mark stood up from the stain and walked over to his friend who was standing stunned in front of an empty tent a few feet away from him. Mark shook his head grimly at the still made tent. “Damn,” Mark sighed, “They didn’t even have time to pack before the Behemoth got them.”

“Oh I doubt a Behemoth got them,” Jackson said. Mark looked over to his friend weirdly to which Jackson just pointed to the flattened grass that surrounded the tent. “Not even a Behemoth can get pass this.”

Mark followed Jackson’s finger to see very familiar arcs and circles scorched into the grass surrounding the tent. He kneeled down and fingered the markings in disbelief, his magic shying away from them. They emitted the same daunting power he felt when he touched the plateau earlier. “A rune? But this is fresh,” he breathed, “That’s not possible.”

“Well apparently it is,” Jackson responded. He too kneeled down before the recreated rune, placing his sword on the ground beside him so he could move in closer. He ghosted his fingers across the markings, their pads buzzing before he could even touch them properly. He hissed, unused to the feeling and moved his fingers to the surrounding grass instead, fingering the blades' burnt edges. “I mean, look at this grass, it was freshly burnt. Someone just did this.”

“No Jackson,” Mark nearly growled in frustration, “Runes are ancient magic carved into stones centuries ago! People don’t ‘just make’ runes!”

“Well,” Jackson shrugged, “This person did.”

Mark wanted to give the other a glare for his smart remark but sighed instead. He knew that Jackson didn’t understand magic the same way he did. The blonde most likely doesn’t have any idea how monumental and unorthodox this was. Things like this just didn’t happen. He rubbed on the rune once more, barely believing that it was even there. He couldn’t fathom being able to wield the power it took to recreate something so ancient, nor could he fathom facing against it. “Look, we need to get out of here before ‘this person’ comes back. This mage is defiantly not someone we want to mess with.”

Jackson glanced over to his friend. He could see his mind turning, the anxiety showing on his features. Seeing him like this reminded Jackson just how inexperienced Mark truly was to combat. He was good, no doubt, but not seasoned. He stood from the rune and replaced his sword between his shoulders before walking over to his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. “What should we do then,” he asked. He knew Mark worked best when he was planning. He couldn’t guarantee that things would be fine but he could do this.

The question jarred Mark and he took a deep breath to calm himself. “We stick to our plan,” Mark answered, “The faster we get out of here the less we have to worry about.” He then stood before rubbing the grass from his knees and walking back to where he found the blood splatter not too long ago. He waved Jackson over and the other followed him, the two kneeling down and watching as the red liquid seeped further into the ground. “I found this earlier,” Mark said, “I thought it was from the people that slept there, but I truly doubt that now.”

Jackson nodded distractedly before he snatched Mark hidden dagger from his lower back and dipped it into the splatter. He tilted it and watched as the blood dripped slowly from the blade. “It’s still dripping,” he frowned “It can’t be more than a couple of hours old, then.” He wiped the dagger on his tank before placing it back onto the magnet attached to Mark’s belt. “How much you wanna bet that blood was from our Behemoth and not from its latest victim,” he said.

“What do you mean,” Mark asked.

“Think about it,” Jackson answered. He stood from the splatter before gesturing to the campsite they just left. “A powerful mage to my right,” he began than pointed to the splatter, “A fresh blood stain to the left and not a civilian or corpse in sight.” He gestured again to the empty plains around them before kneeling next to Mark once more with a bitter smile on his lips. “My guess, we just ran into the campsite of our contract partners.”

“But wait a minute,” Mark said. He glanced at the blood splatter once more his face frowning in confusion. “Blood splatter no corpse,” he continued, “Where’s the Behemoth? Shouldn’t it be nearby – dead nearby?”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Good question,” he said before he smirked, “If it is we could just take horn and the gil right from under their nose. You know, make them do all the work.”

“What if they failed,” Mark asked. He was pretty sure he already knew Jackson's answer, though.

“Then we have a weakened Behemoth to take down,” Jackson shrugged, his response being exactly what Mark predicted he would say. He then stood again and straightened his sword on his back, his face becoming suddenly solemn and serious. “Look, someone has to kill this thing. People are dying, Mark. If they don’t kill it then we do.”

Mark sighed and stood as well. “Alright then,” he said, “Let’s go help kill a Behemoth and hope that the godly mage doesn’t kill us for trying to steal his money.”

“Aye,” Jackson cheered as he slapped Mark hard across his back just above his arrows, “That’s the spirit! Let’s go save a shitty town!”  
\------------------  
“Thank you! Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t save her!” The woman snatched the little girl to her bosom, nearly smothering her as she hugged her to her chest. She threw more praises as she coddled the little girl, her eyes misty but her smile wide and genuine. Jinyoung rolled his eyes as he watched. Never has he seen something so cliché in his life. The knight in shining silver armor being lavished by the town folk as they sing him praises and call him a hero. Jinyoung wouldn’t have been so irritated if this wasn’t the hundredth time he’s seen this scene in the past year. Actually, he would have let it go if the display wasn’t standing between him and 300,000 gil. He continued to watch, wiggling along the wall he was leaning against to prevent the unkempt wood from digging into his back.

“Again it’s no problem.” Again Jinyoung rolled his eyes. Of course it was no problem for him. He does the ‘hero’ thing in every town they’ve stopped in.

“We should be leaving now,” Jinyoung cut it. He knew how long this conversation would take if he didn’t. The woman looked at him as though he was trespassing – as though he didn’t play a role into saving her daughter’s life. He took the look in stride, use to it, and smiled gently to her. “I’m sure Jaebum would like to rest for a while,” he said as he gave the other’s shoulder a little squeeze, “Right Jaebum.”

“Right, right,” Jaebum, also known as Mr. Knight in shining armor, smiled. Jinyoung was just glad he got the hint. “We should be going. The Behemoth is still out there. We just wanted to deliver you daughter back to you before we killed the beast.” The two boys smiled as they back discreetly out of the woman’s living room. Jinyoung could just smell his freedom.

“But you can rest here,” the woman said. Jinyoung would feel the smile slip off his face at the suggestion and he nearly growled when he saw Jaebum considering the offer. Maybe he wasn’t as good at taking the hint as Jinyoung once thought. Jinyoung roughly elbowed the other in his ribs and glared darkly at him when he looked down.

“We – we don’t want to intrude,” Jaebum said once he caught the deathly glare sent his way. “Thank you, though, for your hospitality. However we must truly be on our way.” The other gave one more charming smile that made his eyes disappear behind his cheeks before Jinyoung finally had enough and yanked him out of the house. He didn’t stop dragging the other until they were out of Ferin’s limits and on a straight shot back to their tent.

“I can’t believe you were thinking about it,” Jinyoung said. His courtesy smile was fully replaced with a look of irritation as he stomped along the fields.

“Yeah well,” Jaebum responded, “I can’t believe you were thinking about leaving a little girl to die.”

“What,” Jinyoung began as he uncaringly waved his hand, “You’re still upset about that. I agreed with you in the end, didn’t I?” Jinyoung stopped when he felt that the other wasn’t following him anymore. He turned to the stilled dragoon and frowned. “What,” he shrugged, “Don’t get angry with me!” He gestured back towards Ferin when the other remained silent. “You should be upset with that girl’s mother,” he argued, “Who let’s their young child play on the outskirts of town anyway!”

Jaebum sighed tiredly as he rubbed at his temples. He could feel a migraine coming on. “That’s not the point, Jinyoung. That girl needed our help and you wanted to ignore her for the beast.”

“If we killed the Behemoth she would have been saved either way,” Jinyoung said. He placed his hands on Jaebum’s biceps as the other tightened his grip on his double-sided lance. Jaebum was a good guy but he had a temper and Jinyoung could never be too sure. “Just let it go, okay,” Jinyoung cooed as he rubbed Jaebum’s arms, “It’s all in the past, the girl is safe. I mean we may have lost track of the Behemoth and our gil to correct someone else’s parenting mistake, but-“

“Augh,” Jaebum yelled. He snatched out of Jinyoung gentle hold and stomped his way past the other, fuming. “Why am I even trying? I know you’re only saying this to annoy me.”

“Partially,” Jinyoung said causing Jaebum to pause and stare at the other incredulously. “Oh, c’mon, Jaebum,” Jinyoung laughed, “I wouldn’t leave a little girl to die. It’s just that she wasn’t my top priority at the moment.”

Jaebum sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just get back to camp before I strangle you,” he said. Jinyoung laughed even if he didn’t know how true the other’s words really were. He really could never be too sure with Jaebum.

The two returned to their campsite after crossing the many plains that surrounded the barren Ferin and Jinyoung felt tempted to return to the town if only to set ablaze the idiot mother that let her child play this far from her supervision. Instead he stood just outside the ring of markings around their tent as he waited for Jaebum to gather the ethers and potions they would need for their second encounter with the Behemoth. The first round wasn’t too bad for the two of them, but he knew he had to be careful of Jaebum since the beast was affiliated with his elemental adversary. Jaebum was a fire dragoon, the Behemoth was water affiliated. It was no problem for Jinyoung, but one wrong move could put Jaebum in a lot a danger. Knowing that, it baffled Jinyoung to think that the man could even focus on saving some nameless girl when he was so vulnerable himself.

Jaebum stepped from out of the tent, its flap still laying limply on his shoulder. “I think I got everything,” he said, checking over his shoulder once more before letting the flap close behind him. “Should we leave this here,” he questioned as he waved at the tent behind him, “Is it safe?”

“Trust me,” Jinyoung smirked, “No one will come near this place.” He stepped closer to the tent, preparing to put a barrier up before stopping short. He frowned down at his rune, feeling the faint buzz of foreign magic as it traveled up his leg. “I stand corrected,” he said, “Someone is stupid enough.”

“I see what you mean,” Jaebum said. Jinyoung turned to see the other just outside the arcs of the rune, his fingers running over a large indent left in the grass. “Someone sat something heavy here,” he inferred, “A sword judging by the shape.”

“Are you sure,” Jinyoung asked as he squatted to his rune and ran his finger along it. He could feel another mage’s presence. “Mages don’t carry things like swords, remember?”

Jaebum stood and walked over to Jinyoung squatting also, “What makes you think it’s a Mage?”

“I can feel the magic they left here,” Jinyoung said as he touched the runes again. The mage could feel a smile breaking across his face as his fingers continued to run across the markings, his fingertips dipping into every indention. He could definitely feel the foreign magic now. It swirled around his questing fingers and through his wrist, its presence strong. His own power didn’t know whether it wanted to resonate with it or recoil from it. “Another mage was definitely here,” he concluded.

“You can feel the magic,” Jaebum questioned. He knew what the other meant, but it still didn’t make any sense. Spells left an unseen residue in the air that other mages can pick up on after they were used. Mages could use the residue to tell everything from what spell they used to even what class of mage they were, White or Black. Even dragoons and their dragons could feel it as well, but he didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. “I don’t feel any signs of a spell being used,” he said. He also looked around the field, checking for any battle marks but still came up empty handed. “Don’t see anything either.”

Jinyoung smiled fully after Jaebum spoke and stood over the still kneeling dragoon, placing his hands condescendingly on his shoulders. “You’re right there aren’t,” he agreed, “That’s what makes this so interesting. He didn’t need to cast a spell.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Jaebum countered with a frown.

“It does,” Jinyoung said with a wicked smirk. He loved being able to one up Jaebum. “Among stronger mages,” he finished.

“Among stronger,” Jaebum began before interrupting himself. He was still just as confused. “What does that mean,” he asked. He then shook off the other’s hands and stood up, facing the Mage with an irritated frown. “Plus it doesn’t explain the sword indentation.”

“Maybe he’s traveling with someone,” Jinyoung said shrugging off Jaebum’s question. That didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was the mage. “I kinda want to meet him,” he said. He could feel excitement bubble in his chest at the thought. The residue told him that the mage was powerful but the power was hidden. So much so that a lesser mage may not have been able to pick up on it. He was intrigued to say the least. The last person that intrigued him like this was actually Jaebum. After seeing him in action, he was baffled by how much hidden magical prowess he felt. It was one of the reasons he stayed with Jaebum. He wanted to be there once the dragoon reached his full potential. For some reason he wanted to be there for this one as well. “Maybe we should follow them,” he suggested.

“Maybe we don’t have to,” Jaebum said. He patted the mage on the shoulder as he walked past him to the blood he spilt earlier when he was fighting the beast. He intended on tracing it back to its nest and he had a feeling that their guess were about to do the same. “If they’re out here, chances are they’re after the same thing we are.”

“Killing the Behemoth,” Jinyoung said to which Jaebum nodded. “Good. I hope we run into them. I want to ask our mage a few questions.”

“I’m sure whatever you want to ask you can find out by reading the rezz,” Jaebum sassed lightheartedly. “Don’t get distracted from the reason we’re really out here.”

“To get 300,000 gil,” Jinyoung sassed back, patting Jaebum as well.

“Sure,” Jaebum sighed as he walked ahead, “If it gets you on track.”

Jinyoung laughed at the dragoon’s defeated tone before he started to follow the other. He couldn’t help but spare their tent one more glance before it was out of sight. It was true that he could learn much about the mysterious mage by just the trail he left behind, but there was one thing that left Jinyoung bewildered. He couldn’t pick up on the mage’s class. Was he a White Mage, a Black Mage or something else entirely? Jinyoung had a feeling that he already knew the answer and he couldn’t wait to see if he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear Behemoth fight up next! lol I wanted to add it to this chapter but I felt that it would be better for what I have planned for next chapter. We get to see our boys in action!! PS: Jr's kinda of a dick, huh? He'll get better, promise :)


	5. Chapter 4

The fog hung heavy and the air was oppressive and moist. It was a stock change to the sun that was beating down on them earlier, but Mark felt that this weather was more appropriate. contractd well with the oppressing feeling of death that hung in the air. They were no longer in the plains near Ferin. After following the blood trail, they found themselves close to a mountainside nearby. A deep cave was carved in its base with many giant stone boulders dotting the splotches of grass that still remained beneath the gravel and dried blood. “This must be it,” he said but he was only met with a shushing sound as Jackson harshly pulled him into a squat behind a nearby boulder. The blonde then silently pointed. Mark followed the finger only to pause as he took in what they were really up against.

He’s heard about Behemoths many times over the years, seeing them in books as he studied them as a child, but this was his first time seeing one in person. The only thought he could process was that thing was much bigger in real life. It must have stood the height of three of him, the width of five. He looked along its frame in awe, taking in everything from its massive horn, four clawed paws and spiked covered tail. The size of the barbs that made up the tip of its tail was the length of his bow alone and Mark could imagine that it could do much much more damage. Mark nearly shivered when he felt himself doused in the realization that he’s never faced anything on the magnitude of this before. He absentmindedly let his fingers ghost over the one ether he shoved in his pocket earlier and felt his shoulders tense. Never has he felt so dwarfed and underprepared in his life... and to his chagrin, he liked it!

“Check this out.” Mark blinked from his overwhelming thoughts when he felt, more than heard, Jackson breath into his ear. His voice came out cool and calm, as though he wasn’t moved about taking on a beast multiple their size and when Mark looked over to the other he realized that he wasn’t. His face was calculating and observant as he took in the beast that made erratic movements just in front of them. He was obviously thinking of strategies and plans of action as he watched the beast with unwavering eyes, even as he spoke to Mark. “He’s favoring his left hind leg,” he continued in a low murmur. He then twisted his body further along the back of the boulder, his hand reaching to Mark to get him to do the same.

Mark followed the hand, noticing that Jackson’s movements came out almost automatically, as though he was used to pushing someone behind him, shielding someone as they hid just out of the reach of an immense danger. As Jackson reached his arm across Mark’s chest, the red wondered just how many times Jackson has done something like this before, especially for it to become so second-natured to him now. “I think we can take advantage of that,” Jackson finished.

Mark nodded at the words, although he barely focused on them. His mind was too busy focusing on his heart that was hammering in his chest as the Behemoth walked just beyond the boulder they hid behind. His ears were on its uneven steps as they rumbled the ground beneath it, its barbed tail dragging and raking up the gravel behind it. He watched it as it stumbled about, checking over its massive shoulders, wary of facing another foe like the one that damaged it before. The beast turned further in their direction and Mark lowered his head below the boulder, Jackson’s guarding hand pressing his back firmly against it. The Behemoth was directly above them now and Mark could just see the spikes on its tail as it flicked anxiously just past Jackson’s shoulder. The arm across his chest moved to wrapped around him and pulled him back into Jackson’s chest as the side of the Behemoth’s snout pressed just next to Mark’s forehead. The beast snorted loudly, blowing Mark’s and Jackson’s hair across their faces as the two sat wide-eyed and still, barely breathing.

Then Mark felt the arm that was holding him close slip slowly from his mid-section and the warmth that was pressing his arrows into his back fade away. He looked over his shoulder franticly to only find Jackson ducking carefully under the swaying barbs of the Behemoth’s tail as he rounded the boulder. Mark almost reached to pull him back but was stopped short when a monstrous wail sounded on other side of him, blowing his hair wildly once more. He snapped to the loud sound only to see two gigantic front paws as they slam their way towards the boulder and towards him.

Jackson grunted as he jammed his sword into the Behemoth’s left hind leg, turning it jaggedly as he ripped into the already raw and ragged flesh of the open wound. He snatched he blade from out of the gash as the beast raised on its hind legs, letting out a painful yell before smashing back down towards the boulder he and Mark were once hiding behind. The blonde panicked for a moment as the rock was crushed into pebbles but sighed in relief when he caught the glimpse of scarlet hair rolling safely from the wreckage. “A little warning next-,” Mark yelled before cutting himself short, “Watch out!”

Jackson took heed, barely rolling away from the beast’s barbed tail as it was swiped madly at him in a blind rage. He didn’t have time to recover, though, before the beast countered with a better aimed over-head swipe. The swordsman was just able to place the sword between him and the powerful blow, the impact of it enough to make the ground crumble and cater under his booted feet. “Shit,” Jackson grumbled as he shoved the tail away from him with his sword, “This damn thing is fast!” The Behemoth used the momentum of his shove to turn to face the disgruntled blonde, swiping his clawed paws at the man. Jackson backed away on the balls of his feet, his boots barely touching the ground as he made quicksteps to outmaneuver them.

The beast growled in frustration as it continued to miss its target before deciding to suddenly rush Jackson. The sudden movement caught the man off guard and Jackson stumbled back as the monster snapped its jaws viciously at him, trying almost hysterically to shred him apart with its teeth. Jackson frantically jammed his sword along the width of the Behemoth’s open mouth, pressing back against the flailing beast. The blunt end of his sword dug into the palms of his hands and his knees buckled underneath him. “You can help out any time now, Markie,” Jackson shouted from underneath the Behemoth’s snapping jaws, “Any freaking time, Mark!”

“I’m working on it,” Mark called back. He stood on top of one of the boulders, his bow strung taut with the front of his fingers tickling the side of his cheek. He whispered low into the feathers of his arrow, the ancient dialect of the mages flowing from him with ease. With the last word spoken the arrow came alive in an electrical spark, currents running up and down the length of the arrow, going even further to cover the bow itself. He breathed in deep, took aim for the left hind leg that was now facing him and then let go.

The Behemoth let out a bloodcurdling cry as it railed up on its hind legs once more before slamming back down with a jolt. Jackson rolled out of the way as the massive beast landed, rounding it quickly to regroup with Mark before it had the time to cover its flank again. He then moved in to the beast’s uninjured hind leg, hoping to give Mark another target but when he brought his sword down for a blow it bounced off the leathery skin, leaving it completely unmarred. “What in the hell,” Jackson murmured before turning to Mark and yelling, “What in the hell, I can’t damage it!”

“What do you mean you can’t damage it,” Mark returned in disbelief. He hopped from the boulder and ran to the flabbergasted swordsman, eyes steadfast on the beast as it stumbled and forced itself to face them again. He continued to watch as the Behemoth twitched with its steps, deep red running from its open wound with sparks of electricity running alongside the damaged leg where it shouldn’t be anymore. “Wait a minute,” Mark began but they didn’t have the minute to wait. The Behemoth righted itself and charged at the two, its deadly claws aimed for Mark’s chest. Jackson jumped into action, yanking Mark by the front of his shirt with one hand and shoving him out of the line of fire while using the other to block the oncoming attack. The force of both the shove and the swipe sent both boys flying across the clearing, the gravel scratching and digging along their skin as they skidded along the ground. The Behemoth was also thrown off, Jackson’s resistance making it stumble over its large paws.

“It’s not as quick on its feet anymore,” Jackson noted as he pulled himself up, reaching a hand behind him to pull Mark up as well. The red took the hand, the two breathing hard as they watch the Behemoth stumble about to steady itself. “Maybe we can just keep hacking at its injury,” he said as he rolled the shoulder of his sword arm. The appendage was leaking a bit, the jagged rocks slicing it open. He pulled a potion from out of his pocket and drank it, the cut slowly healing. “It’ll go down eventually, right,” he sighed. Jackson went to jump into the fray once more but Mark grabbed a firm hold of him by his bloody sword arm and pulled both the sword and its master to him. He raised the hilt to his lips and whispered lowly. Jackson let out a soft hiss as a painful tingle went up the length of his arm and when he looked to see what the hell Mark was doing he saw multiple currents of electricity dancing around the curves of his sword, setting the blue tinted steel a spark.

“It’s water affiliated,” Mark said simply, “It’s weak to electricity.” Mark could see the look of realization slowly spread across Jackson’s face after he spoke. They both knew what that meant. They had a chance. Mark fitted his arrow to his bow, his fingers in position as he stood behind the now grinning man and for the life of him he couldn’t keep the grin from off his face either. “How about you try again,” Mark teased, “I’m pretty sure you’ll have better results this time.”

The Behemoth across from them finally righted itself before taking off with a huff, the gigantic beast racing towards them. “You’re sure,” Jackson asked as the beast ran towards them, its paws rattling the earth each time they hit the floor. He watched for Mark’s nod before he shoved the red away and dug his boots into the ground and steadied himself. The monster closed in and snapped at Jackson once more, but this time he was ready. He ducked just under the moving jaws, swinging his sword in an upward arc. The blade sliced clean through, splitting the monster’s jaw in half and even cutting as far up as its right eye and ear. The beast stopped in its tracks, even backing from Jackson as it attempted to give a chilling pain-filled cry from its dismantled jaw.

Jackson backed as well, wiping the blood that splattered across his face and front with the back of his hand. He panted as he smiled in relief, just happy that Mark was right but if he was being honest, he didn’t have any doubt that the man would be. He gave deep breath before turning to the other, his hand squeezing on his hilt. It was time to finish this. “Cover me,” he asked over his shoulder.

“Don’t I always?” Mark gave the other a smirked before he climbed another boulder and readied his bow. “Go in, I got you from here.” Jackson nodded, taking another deep breath before he took off. Now it was he his turn to charge.

He quickly closed in on the monster, determined to not give it enough time to recover. He move to slice across the beast’s snout again but the Behemoth still had fight left in it. It turned away from Jackson’s swipe, retaliating with a horizontal one of its own with its barbed tail, but it was too slow. Jackson easily ducked under the sloppy blow, using his speed to slide along the gravel underneath the tail. He sliced as he slid, giving a deep cut upwards along the Behemoth’s right hind leg. The beast gave a howl and slammed its tail downwards with a jolt. The barbs were the first thing Jackson saw as he slid from under the beast. He raised his sword in hopes of shielding the impact but it never came. Instead the tail lit up in sparks as lightning struck it, pausing for the split second it took for Jackson to slide away. Mark was always good at covering for him.

Mark finished his whispering, another ball of lightning striking the beast. He had its attention now. Mark whispered quickly, half of the spell already out of his mouth as he reached behind him and strung his bow. The mighty beast let out a roar from its mangled maw before dashing to Mark as fast as it could on its shattered limbs. Mark let go, the arrow embedding itself into the crevice Jackson made near the monster’s eye before exploding into an array of currents. The beast faltered from the shock but didn’t stop and continued to race towards Mark, just as Mark wanted. The Behemoth raised its clawed paw before raining it down on the boulder that the mage was standing on. However it missed its target, Mark having leaped into the air and landing on the front paw, letting loose more arrows into the Behemoth’s hanging jaw.

Sparks exploded along the wound as Mark fired more shots, whispering almost nonstop as he enhanced more arrows with thunder magic before firing once more. The beast howled before flinging Mark off his paw. The mage used the air to complete a clean back-flip, landing on his feet with ease before breaking into a run alongside the raging Behemoth while pelting it still with thunder arrows. “That’s it,” Mark yelled as he ran in an arc, rounding towards Jackson again, “Follow me!” He then picked up his speed, running in front of it now before plucking his dagger from his back. He whispered a few words to it and the blade lit up in sparks.

Jackson knew exactly what the other was doing. He settled himself into the ground once more as Mark raced towards him, a bleeding enraged Behemoth right on his tail. He briefly thought of the timid, inexperienced rookie he met a few years ago and how he would have never thought he’d see him do something so reckless. He even wondered if he wanted that Mark back. Then he saw Mark dashing to him, cherry red hair wild, coffee eyes crazed and an adrenaline fuel grin on his face and he realized he wouldn’t have his friend any other way. “Hey,” Jackson heard Mark yell before the mage sunk low. The red laid flat underneath the raging beast digging his dagger into its underside as it raced overhead. “Don’t say I never gave you anything!” Jackson laughed loudly as the Behemoth continued its charged, too injured to stop and having too much momentum to changed directions. It was right in front of Jackson before the blonde swung his sword in a heavy horizontal arc. The waved sword cut clean across the Behemoth’s face, eye to eye. The beast howled in agony before dropping where it stood, the gravel rattling and dust flying from where it laid.

The swordsman wiped his face once more before placing his blade back between his shoulder blades. He rolled his neck as he eyed the fallen Behemoth, making his way towards its tail where Mark stood eyeing it as well. He met up with the other behind the beast, the boy’s once white tank-top now covered in a dark maroon. Jackson smiled fondly and playfully swiped the side of his hand across Mark’s blood covered forehead, to which the red gave a sheepish smile, before they both faced the Behemoth with serious faces. “It’s not dead,” Jackson sighed.

“I... know...,” Mark panted. He was tired. They both were tired. He dug into his pocket and took out the lone ether he had and chugged it. Even as he wiped the liquid from his mouth he knew it wasn’t enough to get him back to full MP. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. “We need a third tier Thunder spell to take this thing out, Jacks. My little Thundaras aren’t cutting it.”

“Third tier?” The two boys paused at the added voice, shoulders stiff as they warily turned around. It seemed that their contract partners weren’t as dead as they would have liked them to be. “I can do that for you.” Both Jackson and Mark readied their weapons at the two new comers, sword drawn and bow taut. The one that spoke simply raised his eyebrow at the two before giving them a conniving almost condescending smile. “Now put that away,” he said as he calmly walked up to the pair, “You both know you’ll lose.”

“I don’t think so,” Jackson answered, “All your whispering won’t protect you from a sword to the face.”

“No,” the other one answered, “But I will.” The taller of the two newcomers stood beside the smirking mage, holding his lance out protectively in front of the other. He stood with his head high and shoulder’s straight, eyeing the two in a more neutral manner. They could tell that he didn’t want to fight but will if he had to. They could also tell that he was the more sensible of the two. “Now back down,” he continued, “You did your best, now let us finish this.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Jackson returned sternly. His refusal was evident but his voice was surprisingly formal, speaking as if he was talking to someone he respected instead of an adversary. “I can’t let you take this. We’re completing this quest.”

“And take my gil,” the mage added as he stepped around the other’s lance, “I don’t think so.”

“Forget the gil, Jinyoung,” the dragoon snapped before he stepped angrily to the Behemoth, “This thing has killed people! It needs to be slain, now!”

“I understand that,” Jackson said as quickly moved to cut the advancing solider off, his hand firmly on his chest. “But no,” he said. The action stopped the dragoon but he still eyed the other in warning. The blonde didn’t back down though, moving to further block the dragoon with his body. “No,” Jackson said again, “I’m not letting you run off with our share of the gil.”

They stared at each other, eyes hard and unwavering, silently arguing with one another until the dragoon finally had enough. “Stand down,” he ordered and after some hesitation, to Mark’s surprise, Jackson did. “I’ll finish this. We’ll discuss gil later.” With that the dragoon raised his lance as Jinyoung, the mage, began whispering just behind him.

“No we’ll discuss it-,” Mark started to intervene but stopped short. He could see gravel rustling, the tail twitching. “Watch out!” However his warning came too late. The Behemoth leaped up and with the last of its massive strength and impressive speed swiped its tail blindly at the crowd.

The spiked tail swung in a mighty sweep, ghosting the crowd before heading straight for the whispering Jinyoung. Jackson moved without thinking, racing to the frozen mage with only the thought to save him. Unable to demagnetize his sword in time, he shoved the mage harshly with his forearm instead, sending the other flying with the force of it. However he didn’t have enough time to move himself. He simply turned and braced himself for impact.

The Behemoth’s final strike hit the swordsman hard. Its barbs stabbed him deep, knocking Jackson along the graveled floor and detaching his sword from his back. He then finally hit a boulder with a hard thud, smearing its surface with his blood.

“Jackson!” Mark ran to the other, feet barely able to keep him steady as he scrambled to him. He finally reached him, cradling the swordsman’s head on his lap and pushing his bloody bangs from his closed eyes. The other’s entire front was soaking through with warm blood, turning the pieces of his black tank that still remained a sickening midnight color. He ripped the rest of the shirt off the other’s chest, revealing a gaping hole in the middle. “Jackson, hang in there,” Mark rambled as he pressed the ripped shirt onto Jackson’s wound, “Please hang in there.” The blonde grunted in response, blood dripping from his lips as he hacked. Mark just gripped the other tighter, pressing the shirt as hard as he could into the open wound. The one time Jackson really needed him and that was all he could do.  
\------------------  
Jinyoung knew the tail was coming. He saw it as it rapidly swept pass the others, saw it heading towards him. He also knew that he couldn’t move fast enough to dodge it and he wasn’t going to get his spell out in time to stop it. He knew that third tier spells took time to cast and if just given a little more time, he’d live. Surprisingly, he got it.

He watched as the one that just threatened him earlier shoved him out the way, watched as he took the blow that was meant for him and he could feel a rage bubble up in his chest for the first time in a long time. “Jaebum,” he yelled to the stilled dragoon. He knew the other was in shock, knew that he was going to blame himself for this too, but Jinyoung wasn’t going to let him waste their given time moping. “Jump, Jaebum,” the mage yelled once more, “Jump!” The other blinked from out of his shock before he nodded, steeling himself. He leaped into air and above the fog, so high until he was out of sight. Jinyoung watched the other until he couldn’t anymore, whispering all-the-while. As he continued to whisper the clouds around them gathered and darkened, distant thunder rumbled and the wind began to harshly blow the loose gravel around the clearing. With a few more words spoken in ancient dialect, Jinyoung called down lightning from the heavens.

Jaebum broke the clouds, the dark atmosphere making it almost too hard for him to see as he quickly began to descend. He aimed his lance, making sure that if he didn’t see anything else that he will keep the Behemoth in view. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Thunder sounded just above him and he knew that it was Jinyoung’s cue. He raised his double-side lance just as it was struck with lightning from the sky. He landed on the Behemoth lance-first, harshly bringing his electrified lance down and deeply embedding it into the monstrosity’s skull. The beasts entire body was engulfed in currents as it screamed and quaked. The dragoon yanked his lance out as it let out one final roar before falling to the ground dead. The clouds overhead then cleared. The fog returned. It was over.

Jaebum walked over to his partner then, reaching a hand to pull him up but he was ignored. He frowned at the disrespect until he noticed that the mage wasn’t even paying attention, his eyes focused solely on the two across from them. He followed the other’s eyes, watching as the red-head fussed over his dying friend, begging him to live despite all odds being against that outcome. “We have to do something.” The words were Jaebum’s thoughts but they came from Jinyoung’s mouth. He stared at the other, confused. Although he agreed with the mage, he never thought he’d hear something from like that come from him. “You have any potions,” Jinyoung continued as he stared at the despairing two across from them.

“I do,” Jaebum answered, “Along with a few ethers, but it won’t do them any good. I doubt potions would do much for a wound like that.” Jinyoung frowned at the answer, it was true. There wasn’t much that they could do here. It was nearly an insult to him – to hold so much power but not be able heal one person. It was the curse of a black mage.

“Give it to me.” They paused when the red spoke to them, his hand facing in their direction. “Did you not hear me,” the red growled turning to face them, “Everything you got. Give it me.” The two looked at each other, their frowns deepening. They all knew that the potions wouldn’t be enough and they knew that no one here could cast cure magic to heal his friend. They saw the latter half of the fight, saw the boy cast black magic, can even feel the black magic residue in the air. He would need to know white magic...

Jinyoung paused before he jumped up and ran towards the desperate red, pulling the dragoon along with him. “You heard the man,” Jinyoung said as he shoved his ethers to the other, “Give him everything!” Jaebum began to protest but the black mage cut him short with a glare. He dug into the dragoon’s pocket and pulled out the ether he knew the other had there before giving it to the other mage. “Watch,” Jinyoung smiled to Jaebum when the man went to argue again, “Just watch.”

Jaebum didn’t know what Jinyoung wanted him to see and was about to say as much but the soft green glow that emitted from the red-head’s palms stopped him dead. “Cura,” the dragoon questioned, but it was as question that didn’t need to be asked. The dragoon has been healed enough times to know what a cure spell looked like. The signature green light seeped from the red-head’s hands, sinking into the other as it weaved and intertwined, slowly closing the hole the best it could. “He’s using white magic,” Jaebum gasped in awe, “But how?”

“Amazing isn’t it, Jaebum,” Jinyoung smiled as he kneeled down next to the other mage and the injured swordsman. He brushed his hand over injured one’s hair before he ripped the bottom of his shirt and handed it to the mage, giving him a mirthless smile. “Sorry to say it but your Cura isn’t going to be enough,” he said, “Wrap him up with this until we can get him something better.”

The red just nodded and held the obviously expensive material, still in shock. “He’ll make though,” the red-head asked, “I did enough so he’ll make it, right?”

Jinyoung didn’t really know and looked to the more experienced Jaebum to answer. The dragoon kneeled down and looked at the raw pink skin that surrounded a long and deep laceration where the gaping hole once was. “He’ll need stitches, antibiotics, and time,” Jaebum said, “But he’ll live.” Jaebum then took the wrapping from the relieved red and wrapped the unconscious blonde’s chest, allowing the other time to take it all in. “We can take him back to camp,” he continued. He picked the other up and, once he was sure he was secure, began the long trek back to his and Jinyoung’s base camp. “You do remember where that is, right,” he asked, “You and you’re friend were there earlier.”

“Yeah,” the archer began before pausing and staring at Jaebum incredulously, “How did you know we were there?”

“You guys aren’t good at covering your tracks,” Jaebum answered. He stopped shortly at the Behemoth’s corpse, stomping off its horn and handing it to Jinyoung. “You two take this back to Ferin,” he ordered, “I’ll take care of him.” He then began to walk out of the clearing, stopping only to pick up the fallen blonde’s fallen sword and latch it onto a magnet he had on his back.

“What,” the other began, “No! I’m not leaving him!”

Jinyoung simply just grabbed the red by his elbow and pull him in the opposite direction. “Leave them be,” he said, “Jaebum couldn’t hurt an injured person if he tried. I’m pretty sure he’ll die from the guilt.” The boy frowned but let himself be dragged nonetheless. JInyoung then gripped the boy tighter before he leaned in, whispering lowly. “Besides, you and I have a lot to discuss, Red Mage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And everybody meets! Man, that Behemoth fight was not supposed to be that long! Sorry it was so long! Anywho next chapter we'll have more interaction and even a little of Jackson's backstory.


	6. Chapter 5

The young man breathed deep. He shouldn’t be here and, to be honest, he wished he wasn’t. Royal eyes flashed to his direction and he ducked behind the wall his was hiding behind to avoid them. He wanted them to see him even less then than he wanted to be here. Here, behind a tall wall, fingers gripping its corner as he peaked his head around to see what he didn’t want to see.

The eyes finally moved on, their owner showing no reaction to seeing him. The boy didn’t know if that meant that he wasn’t seen or if he was just being played with. It didn’t matter either way. The boy wasn’t going to move. He was too entranced by the scene that played out in front of him. Another young man, about eighteen or so, was battling in the middle of a grand coliseum-like room. The dragoon he faced against was going easy on him, obviously. The boy could easily tell even from his distance. However, the other was being massacred.

The dragoon prodded with a sharp stab and his opponent jumped back, almost as if he was astonished, pulling both his sword and shield away from his middle. The lance had longer reach than the boy was able to outmaneuver, though, and the tip of the weapon nudged the middle of his chest plate. “No,” the watching young man said, “Block with the shield and knock the lance away. Then move in close and go for the stab.” The other dragoons that watched the match from above in their stone seats must have felt just as disapproving. They shook their heads as the sound of metal hitting metal sounded in the large arena.

The fighting boy staggered back after the hit, rubbing on his chest plate as if it would sooth the pain his chest must be feeling. The watching boy rubbed his chest as well. He took enough stabs there to know how that felt. He looked back out to the stage as the boy returned to the spar, taking a ready stance. “No,” the other whispered again from behind the wall, “Your stance is off.” The fighter stood with his legs wide and straight across from one another. He held his shield low, closer to his crouch than his ribs and his sword’s hilt was on the inside of his knee. “You’re standing as if you’re using a two handed sword.” He continued to whisper as if the boy could hear him, “You need to stand with one foot behind the other so you can brace yourself for a block. Keep the sword on the outside of your body so you won’t accidently raise your sword to block your chest.” He then gave an exasperated sigh as he pushed off the wall and shook his head in dismay. “He’s going to end up stabbing himself,” he exclaimed. That didn’t stop him from running back to the wall as the fight started again, though, gripping tight as he continued to watch.

The dragoon stood tall and at ease, swiping sandy blond hair from his eyes as he waited. He raised a bushy eyebrow at the awkward stance before shrugging and getting into a stance himself. He held his lance in the middle, letting the length of it cover across his chest and armor. The boy backstage instantly recognized the stance. This dragoon was a power house. He wasn’t about stabbing and he wasn’t about the fancy twirls that other users of long weapons did. He used his lance less like a spear or boa but more like a two-sided sword. “He was going to break clean through that flimsy stance,” the boy mumbled and he was right.

One moment the kid was standing, the next a hard shoulder knocked into the upper regions of his chest while a lance was pulled into the hollow of his knees. The teenager fell to the ground with a loud thump. His sword slid from his grip along with his shield when he hit the floor. The boy moved to retrieve them but was stopped by the sharp point that nudged his throat. He looked up to see the dragoon standing over him with the point of his lance at his throat. “Sorry kid,” the Imperial dragoon said, “Maybe next year.” The boy sighed before flopping back to the ground in defeat. The dragoon raised an eyebrow once again but still tossed his lance to the side and offered his hand. The boy took it, standing and recovering his lost weapons. “So,” the dragoon said, “Who’s next?”

The boy near the wall moved out of the way as the defeated teenager walked passed. He touched the other’s shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile as he walked pass which the other returned. The boy frowned for a moment, wondering why he was given the sad smile before he heard the dragoon’s words echo across the coliseum. “Who’s next,” the boy repeated. He looked around him to see an empty hall that was once filled with teens just like him. “Oh shit,” the boy mumbled, “I’m next.”

The boy hesitantly stepped out into the arena. The dragoon stopped rolling his shoulder to watch him walk in. He instead rolled his fingers along the rigged green medallion that sat in the middle of his chest. It lit up when it was touched and the dragoon nodded his head, “I think so too.” He never took his eyes off the other as he shuffled to center stage, though. The boy shrank back from the stare, the dragoon’s eyes sharp under his unruly eyebrows. He stopped across from the other, unlatching his sword from his back. He then stood with his legs far apart, one foot just in front of the other as he settled the weight of his blade between his legs instead of his back. “Where’s your shield, kid,” the dragoon asked as he replaced his shoulder guard and faced his opponent.

The boy shrugged. “Don’t need one,” he answered, “This baby is both my sword and shield.” The dragoon nodded as though he just absorbed some important information, the medallion lighting up once more as he eyed the other’s large sword. The boy tightened the grip on his handle, feeling unsettled. He felt like he gave something away he shouldn’t have. The dragoon walked about the arena with his lance held loosely by his side, his steel-toe boots heavy on the polished marble floor. The sound was intimidating to say the least. The boy didn’t say anything in return to the scare tactic. He instead just moved along the area as well, making sure to keep the distance between them and his feet steady.

“You _don’t_ need one, do you,” the dragoon answered, his voice sure and intrigued. The boy blinked up shocked as did the other dragoons that watched from above. “I can tell you this now,” the man said as he stopped pacing. He placed his lance on one of his shoulders with his hand closer to the lower end, his shoulders lax. The boy noticed the stance and it surprised him. It seemed like he was for the fancier stuff after all. “It’s going to be an honor working alongside of you.” With that he rushed the boy, turning his back towards him before turning back around and using the momentum to swing in a wide horizontal strike.

The move surprised the other and came out exceedingly quick. He raised his sword up just as quickly, turning to his left to block it easily. The block didn’t deter the dragoon though as he easily changed the direction of his swing, before grabbing it with both hands and spinning it over his head. The shining green medallion swung just as wildly as its owner did, glowing to display its excitement. The dragoon then quickly lunged forward, using the length of the lance to be far away but still able to stab. The boy blocked the attack with the flat side of his sword and shoved it away before moving in. He grabbed the dragoon by his forearm and pulled him close before going in for the stab.

The sound of metal on metal echoed throughout the room, the tip of the boy’s sword sitting just below the other’s glowing green medallion. The dragoons above were silent as they watched a teen hold a sword to their brethren’s armored chest. The boy nervously looked up to the stands in fear as he slowly let the other go. “I’m sorry,” he announced to the quiet room. He backed away with one of his hands raised in surrender, the other gripping tightly onto his hilt. “I was supposed to win, right?”

The dragoon across from him laughed, sitting his lance upright so he could lean on it. “Yeah,” he said, “You’re supposed to win.” The boy deflated some but still looked around him confused. “Don’t mind them,” the dragoon said, “They’re not used to seeing me lose.”  The dragoon offered the other an easy smirk, the boy’s returning smile not as easy. Seeing this, the dragoon walked up to him and slapped him on the back hard enough for the boy to fumble. “Besides they’re a group of old folks unlike us,” he commented off-handedly, “Wait, how old are you, brat?”

“Six,” the boy started. He cleared his throat when he realized that his voice was much higher pitched than he wanted it to be. “Sixteen,” he started again with his voice deeper, “I’m sixteen.” He could hear one of the dragoons above him repeat him in awe and he frowned. “Not too young, right?”

“No,” another voice called from the stands. The sound of it silenced the whispering dragoons that surrounded him. The man stood from his throne, his golden robes falling in small waterfalls around his strong frame. His matching crown sat comfortably among the chestnut hair on his head as if it never sat on anyone else’s. “Not too young at all.” All the room’s occupants fell to their knees once he stood but the man just smiled and waved the kneeling away. “Stop,” he said, “The attention should be on this boy.” He gestured to the boy down below. The boy did the same, pointing at himself. “Yes you,” he said, his smile turning soft.  “I, King of Imperial City, would like to personally welcome you to the Imperial Army, Jackson Wang.”

\-----------------------------

Jackson blinked awake slowly, groaning as he tried to get his eyes to listen to his commands.  He squint them as he tried to get a good look around him without alerting anyone. He couldn’t decipher much, his head still foggy from sleep, but he was certain that the dark navy cloth he was surrounded by wasn’t the ratty army green he’s accustom to seeing when he usually woke up. “That’s not right,” he mumbled to himself as panic started to flow through him. No fugitive liked waking up and not knowing where they were.

 He tried to rise and find out but a strong hand grabbed him, pushing his shoulder to lay him back down.  “Calm down,” the hand’s owner said. The voice wasn’t familiar to Jackson and it surely didn’t calm him. He reached an arm across his chest in an attempt to shove the unwanted hand off, but paused in the middle of the motion. Hot unexpected pain shot from the middle of his chest.  The feeling was so potent and shocking that he gasped in surprise before he groaned pitifully and flopped back down. He remembered what happened now. He couldn’t help but laugh, the dream he had earlier suddenly becoming so freaking ironic. “I’m guessing you want to know what happened,” the voice asked. It was laced with amusement, the man most likely laughing at Jackson’s pitiful groans. 

“Actually,” Jackson began, ready to bombard the man with questions, but he cut himself short when the word caused him pain. He hissed then breathed deep, laying flat on his back in a hope to breathe the pain away. Though, with every breath he took he could feel the pull of stitches at his skin instead. He frowned at the unfortunately familiar sensation. Last he checked one couldn’t just stitch together the crater he knew was in the center of his chest after the Behemoth’s attack. He was confused for only the briefest of moments before things clicked.”Never mind,” he said instead, “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Mark healed him. More importantly, Mark reveled that he was a Red Mage. “So, I’m guessing the Behemoth’s down?” The blonde asked with his eyes still shut and his breathing still heavy.

“You guessed right,” the voice said. There was rustling for a moment, the movement quite near to Jackson now that he was sentient enough to hear it. The sound of a loosened top, the pop of a first aid kit and the wrinkling of a folded bag all echoed in the air. “Used a Thundaga and it was right out,” he continued, “You two weakened it pretty well, so we only had to add the finally touches. I’m just glad it’s over.”  Jackson noticed the relief in the other’s voice that showed his statement to be true.

 There was more rustling as the other moved closer to Jackson. Legs unraveling, the man most likely moving to a kneeling position so he could hunch over the blonde, before fingers probed gently at his chest.

Jackson grabbed the questing hand out of reflex.  He caught the other in mid-motion, the injured swordsman’s eyes still closed despite his bone-crushing grip. They both came to a sharp halt as Jackson peek an eye open. He finally saw who he was talking to and frowned once he realized it was the dragoon from earlier he held tightly in his fist. The upperparts of his red armor was gone now, the man covered in a navy tank instead. His raven hair was tossed carelessly upon his head, the front hanging gently on the pale lines of his face and over his sharp eyes. The beginnings of a golden chain dangled from his neck, Jackson figuring that the matching pendent was most likely hidden under his shirt. Well, the necklace erased any doubt that the swordsman had about the other’s authenticity. He was definitely a dragoon.

That didn’t stop Jackson from giving the other a warning glare as his grip tightened, thinking to himself that his dream has become even more ironic. The dragoon only raised an eyebrow, his face calm and patient yet full of the authority every dragoon had as he waited to be released. The look didn’t warn Jackson to let him go but ordered Jackson to let him go. “Where’s Mark,” Jackson asked his grip still tight. He might have owed the man much, but he wasn’t letting go until he was sure that the red was safe.

The dragoon sighed at the question, his face softening as if he understood. He then gently wrapped his free hand around the other’s wrist, massaging the tension that resided there away and slowly eased the other’s fingers loose. “He’s safe,” the dragoon answered. He pulled his hand out of Jackson’s loosened grip, turning to place the cotton ball he held onto a towel nearby. He then flopped from his kneeling position and placed his hands between his legs. He gave off the air of opened and laid back but Jackson could still see the line in his shoulders, the tension that told that he was ready to take him down if the blonde tried to flee again. “But you’re not,” he said seriously, “I just stitched your wound and I haven’t disinfected it or wrapped it yet. I need for you to stay still. I’m sure you don’t want your friend to come back and find you dead of infection because you felt like being stubborn.”

Jackson glared for only a moment before deflating, finding himself no match for the other’s common sense. He settled more in his resting spot, balling his hands into fist as he tried to force them by his side. “I didn’t grab you on purpose,” he supplied before asking, “Jaebum, right?” The dragoon nodded, his face softening in understanding once more before he reached for another cotton ball and the bottle of disinfect. He dabbed as gently as he could around the stitches, showing the other apologetic faces when he pressed too hard.

Jaebum finally tossed the ball away when he saw that his fellow warrior was drenched in sweat and his eyes were glazed over. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t pass out on me yet,” the raven said. He dipped a cloth in the bucket of cold water behind him and used it to wiped the dazed man down, removing the blood that caked on his hairline and face before wetting another clean towel and laying it on his forehead. “Stay with me,” he said as he tapped the other’s face. The blonde jerked awake at the taps, goofy smile on his worn face followed by a half-baked apology. The dragoon cracked a smile of his own as relief washed over him, thankful that this blonde before him was a fighter.

“You know,” Jackson started to say. He paused to flutter his eyes shut when another wet cloth passed over his face and sword arm. “You didn’t really answer my question.” The gentle movements stopped as the other looked to him in confusion. Jackson chuckled breathlessly at the expression. Confusion made the dragoon’s eyes smaller and fattened his high cheeks. Jackson honestly thought in his foggy mind that the expression looked cute on Jaebum. “You didn’t tell me where Mark was,” he supplied.

“Oh,” Jaebum said, “He’s with... Jinyoung.” The other man’s name was heavy on the dragoon’s lips as he tossed the cloth he was using backing into the bucket before facing towards the town.  Jackson could see the instant change as guilt weighed heavily on the other.  His shoulders were slumped and his head lowered. He watched as the man played with his lips as though he could physically force his choked up words to come out. “I just,” he began before sighing. He looked back up to Jackson, forcing his shoulders straight as he looked the man in the eye. Though his body strong, his sharp facial features where softened by his sincerity. ”Thank you,” Jaebum said. “He was my responsibility,” he continued as he looked at the other as if it was his life the swordsman saved, “And I was to one to endanger him, I should have been the one to protect him.”

Jackson shrank away from the other’s raw gratitude. It’s been a long time since someone thanked him like that – since he was seen as a hero. He honestly didn’t think he deserved it anymore. “Think nothing of it,” Jackson shrugged, “I didn’t think about it. I just jumped, you know.” He shrugged as best he could from his position, his fingers flexing along his sides as he tried to keep old memories of when he _did_ deserve it at bay. 

“You just jumped,” Jaebum repeated. He leaned back on his hands, looking as though the comment left him flabbergasted. He then sat up straight before looking away from the other, shaking his head as he cracked another smile. “I guess the rumors were true, huh,” he asked. He then looked back at the other, something akin to admiration coming from his eyes. “You truly are the ‘Dragoon without a Dragon’.”

Jackson paused when he heard the name, his hands folding into fists once more. He swallowed the lump that formed in the back of his throat as years of buried memories flooded him at once. The images of dragoons patting him on the back, calling him one of them own, telling him that he had the heart and ability of any dragoon, then them praising him when he officially joined their elite force – it all passed by rapidly in his mind. When dragoons talked about him to their underlings that’s what they referred to him as, the ‘Dragoon without a Dragon’. It was an honor that any Imperial soldier would have dreamed of. That all seemed so long ago, though. That thought brought him back to the present where the other waited, a frown marring his once ‘cute’ features.  “So you know of me,” Jackson asked his tone cold and sharp.

“Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t want me to,” Jaebum asked. The dragoon slouched once more, but instead of looking relaxed he looked disappointed. He faced the former soldier with a frown. “Of course I know of you,” he answered, “You’re a legend in the Imperial Army.” He paused before a sheepish half-smile flashed on his face. “I mean,” he said, “You were. Now though...”

“Now I’m a disgrace,” Jackson finished for him. He stretched his arm over his eyes and sighed. The gesture made his chest sting as his stitches were pulled too far but this was better than seeing the disappointment all over Jaebum’s face. He was tired of seeing it. The faces of disbelief that slowly transformed into disgust – it still haunts him. Then the voices of dragoons asking why and how started to fill his head and he snatched his arm away in frustration.

“Stop that,” Jaebum ordered. He reached across and laid a hand on the blonde’s uncovered chest, forcing him still. “You’re going to pull your stitches out,” he growled, “And if I have to do that stitch job over again, I’m going to make it hurt.” Jackson glared but he knew that the other was right. He pulled his arm back to his side as the raven reached behind him and pushed to sit him up. “I’m going to wrap you up now,” he said formally. It was policy in the Imperial Army to inform a conscience patient of what they were doing next. “I didn’t tell you last time,” he said, “So I get why you went off on me.”

“Sorry,” Jackson started, “I didn’t mean to.” The raven just simply nodded in understanding once more. He then nudged Jackson’s elbow and the blonde followed the silent command, raising his arm so the dragoon could place the wrappings along his armpit. Jackson held the tail end while Jaebum wrapped it around him. The two worked in tangent to one another while they quickly wrapped the swordsman as if they were old friends and this happened often between them. Jackson mindlessly reached beside him, handing the other the medical tape before the dragoon even asked for it. It was taken without the other even looking up, Jackson easily lifting his arm again so that the other could finish.

“I don’t get it, though,” Jaebum started in the comfortable silence. He stopped to rip the tape off with his teeth, before tossing it carelessly behind him. “What happened? At one point you’re the first non-dragoon to become a commanding officer, leading your first platoon on a mission in Zyraion. Next you’re having a ‘psychotic breakdown’ and, well,” the man paused his voice dropping, “killing a group of child mages.” The raven pressed his hand along the tape he placed on the wrappings, ensuring it would stay on. He could feel the way the other’s body flinched under his fingers when he spoke of the children’s deaths; could see the uncomfortable, regretful grimace that masked his face.  The former soldier was filled with guilt and the dragoon knew from experience that psychotics were rarely guilty. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he reiterated. He then pushed away from the other, locking eyes with him before he spoke again, “But then again lies rarely do.”

Jackson blinked in shock before lowering his eyes and breaking the contact he held with Jaebum. He crossed his arm around his bandaged chest as if he was shielding himself. He wanted to seem small, the dragoon noticed. He was ashamed. “Is that what you think,” Jackson whispered, “That it’s all lies?” The blonde gave a mirthless snort before his expression fell. He chewed on his bottom lip and his eyes glazed over with an internal pain this time. “No one lied, Jaebum. It’s the truth. I wanted to save them, but I just-” The man shrugged as words escaped him. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even acknowledge it. So he ran instead. He ran and hid like a coward. He was no dragoon.

“You expect me to believe that?” Jaebum sighed. He turned his back to the self-proclaimed child murder, dipping his hands into the bucket behind him to clean them. Jackson looked at the other’s turned back in confusion. “You want me to believe that a man that can jump in front of a Behemoth to save a complete stranger,” he began, “Killed a group of kids? I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it. You don’t have it in you, Captain Wang.” He then turned back towards the other with an angry, frustrated frown marring his features. “I’ve seen my fair share of evil,” Jaebum stated, “You’re not evil, Jackson. You didn’t kill those kids.” His blatant refusal of Jackson’s truth bewildered the swordsman. He looked back at his raven companion with his mouth agape, any rebuttals he had dying on his tongue. “Imperials have the tendency to lie,” Jaebum growled. He then pulled his necklace from out of his shirt, wrapping his fingers around the large dull red jewel that hung around his neck. “They pulled one on me before. I’m not letting them do it again.”

“Your dragon,” Jackson questioned confused. He looked at the red jewel that hung from the golden chain. Light should have sparked once Jaebum’s fingers met the jewel. The connection between the dragoon and his dragon should’ve illuminated it. However, Jackson notice there was no light at all, not even the light of the soul living within it. “Where’s your dragon, Jaebum?”

The raven face contorted to an ominous glare. The expression was so hateful it raised the hairs on the back of the blonde’s neck. He didn’t even think that the collected man he’s seen so far could make such a blatantly evil expression. “I trusted my dragon to the Imperials,” he seethed, “And they took him from me.” He squeezed the ruby pendent in the palm of his hand, applying enough pressure for it to leave an indent in his palm.

“Why would they take your,” Jackson began but he stopped himself cold. He knew that red armor and seen that ruby pendent. The raven was a fire dragoon. Fire dragoons are generations old, ancient even, and both they and their dragon were rumored to be filled to the brim with ancient magical prowess. “The Red Mage Experiments.”

The raven looked up wide-eyed, surprise overtaking the hatred that once marred his face. “You know about that,” he asked. The blonde nodded but his eyes were unfocused as if he was in intense thought. “How do you know about that,” the dragoon asked.

Jackson blinked away from his thoughts to answer the question. He features were solemn again, though, when he spoke. “I found out on Zyraion before... everything,” he mumbled, “They were experimenting on those children.”

The other’s expression was murderous once more and Jackson was sure that if he still had his dragon he would be puffing steam from his nostrils with every angry exhale. “That’s inhuman,” he said, “To do that to children.” He then deflated from his anger, the hurried run of his fingers in his hair slowing to a stop as he held his head instead. “To think that I almost subjugated Jinyoung to that fate,” he murmured to himself. The blonde looked up curiously at the whispered words. The dragoon shied away from the eyes, hesitating to answer the unasked question. However, he assumed it was only fair to share with the other as the other has shared to him. “I got a mission about a year ago,” he began, “To capture a powerful Black Mage that committed major transgressions against the Imperial Crown.” He sighed before running his palm from his hair to over his face, the hand bringing down his expression as it passed. “They wouldn’t even tell me what he did,” he said as he shook his head, “I should’ve known that something was up, but I was too trusting. I went out without a second thought.”  He breathed deep, gathering himself, before he continued. “Now that I think back on it, it wasn’t really a fight,” he said with the briefest of smiles as he reminisced, “He was holding back. We both were. I don’t know. I couldn’t go full force. He just didn’t seem like a criminal. He was an asshole for certain, but not a criminal.” He then paused to laugh again, eyes watching the closed tent flaps. “He didn’t even deny the crimes. He only looked confused for a moment before telling me to come get him if I thought I could. I don’t know how to back down from a challenge and I didn’t know how to disobey orders, so I did. I brought him in.” The smile then disappeared off his face as he looked down to his hands. He ringed his fingers together before he looked up again and continued. “I got curious after they asked for my dragon. So I went looking,” he said as he looked Jackson in the eye, “I didn’t like what I found. My dragon was gone, long gone and the sassy mage I brought back with me was nearly lifeless. Not just him, either. There was a room of them, all in tubes with scars everywhere. I knew it was too late for the others but apparently Jinyoung’s a fighter. I busted him out there. I promised to never let any harm come to him again, especially not because of me. “

“I get it,” Jackson said. A small smile blossomed on his face as he thought of an overwhelmed redhead that just experienced his first major battle. He remembered grabbing him by his trembling shoulders and promising that he would be safe if he stayed with the blonde. “I made a similar promise – twice. I didn’t keep it the first time,” he said. He thought of a little boy that held tightly to his chainmail and whose tears dripped along his fingers to only be replaced with his blood moments later. “But I plan on keeping it this time.”

“You mean Mark,” Jaebum asked. Jackson simply nodded as he looked out towards Ferin. Jaebum noticed that he held his arm around his knee so his abdomen didn’t have to hold him up and irritate his wound. His face was content despite his pain. Jaebum looked at the other. Even injured and clearly weak, he still only thought of protecting someone else. The hero worship he felt as a rookie was slowly coming back to him. Jackson was once someone that both dragoons and non-dragoons looked up to. He was someone special. Having this conversation with him and having the man understand his need to protect made the dragoon finally understand why everyone held him in such high regards. It made him add the man’s tarnished name on the list of wrongdoings done by the Imperial government. It made him want to tear them down even more. “Come with me,” Jaebum ordered.

“What?” Jackson tore away from the tent’s opening, the dragoon’s order startling him. “Come with you where,” he asked.

Jaebum gave Jackson a wicked smirk and he shifted excitedly towards the other. “Come with us to Riel.” Jackson scrunched his eyebrows together as his face displayed his confusion. Jaebum continued before the swordsman could even ask. “There’s a rebel force there. We can help them.”

 “That’ll start a war,” Jackson returned. He leaned more into his raised knee, features hard. “I’m not dragging Mark into a war and I won’t abandon him either.”

“Jackson,” Jaebum sighed, “Let me level with you.” He then sat next to his former comrade in arms, bare shoulders pressed together. Jackson leaned into the subtle assistance, letting himself rest against the other in order to sooth the ache in his chest. “Things changed since you left. There’s always been strife between the Three Nations, but things aren’t as simple anymore. The strife between Zyraion and Imperial City is most likely a farce.” Jackson jerked back from the other before his wound punished him for his rapid movement. He then laid lax on Jaebum’s offered shoulder as the man gently probed to check to see in his wound was still stitched. “Be careful, brat,” he chastised. Hero worship be damned.

“Sorry,” Jackson almost pouted. It’s been a while since a dragoon called him ‘brat’. “But c’mon,” he continued, “Decades of tension can’t be faked.”

“It might not have always been that way,” Jaebum said. He took a quick peek down to ensure that the man was not bleeding through his wrappings before he continued. “But the latest has to be. They’re locking innocent mages, like Jinyoung, away in order to experiment on them! Who’s to say that he was the first? Who’s to say that he’s the last?”

“That does make sense,” Jackson nodded. He bit his lip for a moment, eyes fading in thought. “The Head Mage knew about the experiments that were conducted on those kids. He was the one to tell me about it. They needed someone to ‘take care of the failures’. They figured they’d put their best man on the job.”  Jackson could feel the anger that ran through Jaebum after he spoke. The shoulder under him rippled and tightened as the dragoon suppressed his outburst.

The tension then moved as quickly as it came, the man wrapping a friendly arm around the other’s shoulder as he spoke calmly into the other’s blonde hair. “We have to stop this, Jackson,” Jaebum said, “The war is inevitable. The least we can do is to become the ones to ensure that the right side wins.” Jaebum then leaned forward when he felt the weight on his shoulder get heavier, the blonde most likely falling asleep again. He caught the man about his shoulders and leaned him back so he could lie down once more.

“I can’t take Mark to a war, JB,” Jackson mumbled half asleep. The raven quirked an eyebrow at the new name but made no moves to correct him. He nodded, thinking that the gesture would pacify the drowsy man, but he was proven wrong when his wrist was once again gripped in a vice grip. He looked down to his capturer to see the other’s dark eyes were clear and unmistakably sentient. “I mean it. Mark’s running from the Imperials too. Running with you will lead us right to them. I can’t risk Mark.”

“I understand,” Jaebum answered, “You know I do.” He then gripped the other gently with his free arm, his eyes also serious and unforgiving when they met with the other’s. “But how long do you plan on running,” he asked. “They’re going to find you both someday, Jackson” he continued, “You’re only delaying the inevitable. You and I both know that the only way to truly be free is to eliminate the ones that held us to begin with.” Jackson then looked away and Jaebum instantly knew that the blonde saw his words as truth. He grip loosened and he flopped his arm on the ground in defeat. “Just think about it, Jackson,” Jaebum counseled, “And talk to Mark if you have to, but I have to be honest here. I want you both there.” Jackson simply nodded. “Good, now get some rest. The mages will be back soon and when they are, you need to be ready to move, okay.”

“Got it,” Jackson mumbled before promptly falling asleep.

Jaebum watched the other for a moment, eyes checking if his breathing was normal. He was satisfied when he saw the other’s chest consistently rise and fall before leaving the tent in order to look out for the mages instead. As he watched in the direction of Ferin, he let his mind wonder back to the other inside. That man inside wasn’t a murderer. Yet he carried the weight of it on his undeserving shoulders. Jaebum intended on fixing that.  Just as he intended on preventing another scar from ruining Jinyoung’s skin ever again, just as he intended on retrieving his stolen dragon from the thieves that dared to take him. The Imperials were going to receive the quick strike of justice they deserved and it was going to come from the blades of his double-sided lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm so sorry that this chapter is so late. July and August have been really rough for me. Plus the dialouge was a little unnatural the first three drafts so I had to keep rewriting and adjusting. It was driving me crazy. I hate editing stuff. Anywho I hope you like it. btw, I was supposed to write Jinyoung's and Mark's time together in this chapter as well but it's already crazy long and late and I couldn't tact anymore onto this chapter so it'll have to wait until the next. I promise you'll get you mages next time.


	7. Chapter 6

Jinyoung sighed as he crossed his arms across his chest, glaring daggers at his silent ‘companion’. The man has been quiet ever since they left the Behemoth’s nest nearly a half an hour ago. The silence was driving Jinyoung crazy. He sighed to himself once more, just to make noise, his eyes roaming Ferin’s deserted plains as he tried to find something that would alleviate his extreme boredom. His eyes though, kept returning to the man next to him. When they found him for the third time Jinyoung figured that the only way to entertain himself was to try to communicate with the other. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Judging by the look on the other’s face that was easier said than done.

The red had a deep frown etched onto his otherwise attractive features. His pink lips were drawn in a straight line and his cherry eyebrows were knitted together in worry. His shoulders were still tight with tension, still high strung from the earlier battle. He was even still drenched in the blood of the beast they killed. The liquid stained his white shirt maroon and matted his crimson hair to his forehead. It even started to flake along his pale skin as it dried under the beating sun. The blood created dry patches along the sharp line of his jaw and the long column of his throat. Jinyoung frowned as he looked at the bloody mess of a man, the morbid stains cruelly reminding him of the reason for the other’s silence.  

Jinyoung looked away once that thought settled in his mind. He knew the silence was not because the other didn’t wish to speak with Jinyoung but because the other’s mind was too occupied with his dying friend to care to hold a conversation. It was obvious how much his friend’s near death affected him. He looked over his shoulder towards Jinyoung’s tent more frequently than he looked to the road in front of him. He was always checking behind him, his footsteps stuttering as he fought to keep going towards Ferin and away from his friend.

The red mage was truly fighting with himself, Jinyoung saw, pulling himself back when he wanted nothing more than to run to his friend’s side. Jinyoung wondered if there was ever a time when he felt like this. Has he ever bitten his lip in worry, tugged his fingers through his hair in desperation? Has he ever been so close to the brink but was strong enough to pull his own self back? Flashes of pink hair and smiling feline eyes entered his mind’s eye as he thought of the answers and he figured he’d leave that train of thought for another time.

“He’s going to be alright,” Jinyoung spoke instead. He kept his eyes in front of him, keeping his voice aloof. He said that because he knew how much the other mage needed to hear it. He figured that he didn’t mind giving the other false confidence if it made the mage stop checking over his shoulder so frequently.

“Huh, what?” The redhead snapped his head back towards the other, his eyes wide. It was very clear that the other forgot Jinyoung was there. “What did you say,” he asked as he faced the other in confusion. He threw his eyes over his shoulder once more as he waited for Jinyoung’s answer and the gesture only served to make Jinyoung laugh. The red frowned then, his eyebrows no long clenched in worry but in irritation. “What’s so funny,” he said. He tugged on the strap of his quiver and Jinyoung sobered up quickly, taking the hint.

“Calm down,” Jinyoung said with a wave of his hand. The motion caused a slight breeze as the power that just seemed to surround the mage disturbed the air. It was as much of a warning as the other’s but the black mage kept it light-hearted, an easygoing smile on his face. The smile didn’t ease the lines of the red’s shoulders, though. “I just find your constant worrying to be endearing, Red Mage,” Jinyoung continued. He then saddled up next to the other mage. He ghosted his fingers along the other’s bicep, hoping to relay another warning by letting his power ghost along the other’s arm, however he was shocked. Both of them sprung apart, a little tingle running up the length of Jinyoung hand. “Interesting, Red Mage,” Jinyoung smirked once they settled. “Very, interesting.”

 “What did you do,” the red accused. He looked surprised despite his suspicious outburst. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes were wide once again in nothing short of awe. He rubbed his hand along his bicep as if to sooth it as he watched it to see if it had gained a new deformity of some sort. “What did I do,” he questioned softly.   

Jinyoung stifled a laugh, coughing to cover it when it refused to die in this throat. He had a strong feeling that the other wouldn’t have appreciated his laughter at the moment. “Nothing wrong, Red Mage,” he reassured. The other looked up when Jinyoung spoke, eyes clearly asking for answers. “Just a passing of power between two powerful mages.” Jinyoung shrugged as if his words meant nothing, but he knew they had the opposite effect. He wanted to invoke the mage’s curiosity, make questions arise, but when he looked to the other all he saw was defeat.

“Powerful,” the red mage questioned, “I’m not powerful.” He then looked down towards his blood covered hands. He folded one into a fist, using the other to peel the blood that clotted along his knuckles and between his fingers. “If I was powerful,” he tried to continue. He then paused, stopping alongside the road to collect himself. “If I was powerful,” he started again, “I wouldn’t have Jackson’s blood all over my hands. We wouldn’t have needed you to save us and we wouldn’t have put you in danger.” He then sighed and flop his hands to his sides as if he lost all will to hold them up. “I’m not powerful,” he concluded with a sigh, “I’m a damn mess.”

Jinyoung also stood along the side of the dirt road they walked along letting the solemn atmosphere set in. He understood the other’s plight, maybe more than anyone else. “Fine then,” Jinyoung said. He turned to the other, turning his nose up at him. “You aren’t powerful.” The man looked up offended, before lowering his head in acceptance and embarrassment. However Jinyoung spoke again. “But I can make you powerful,” the Black Mage declared in such a serious manner it forced the other to look up, “I can teach you third tier spells, Red Mage.”

The red mage’s shock quickly dissipated, anger and betrayal contorting his face into an intimidating snare. “Don’t,” he hissed, “Don’t.” He slowly backed away from the other, breathing roughly from his nose as he gritted his teeth to try to keep the anger at bay. “This is not a game,” he finally burst out. He then snapped, returning back to Jinyoung’s personal space. He closed in until he was almost touching noses with him. His hands twitched restlessly at his sides, folding into fist before being released to only be balled up again. “My closest friend,” he began through gritted teeth before pausing, his eyes turning sad.  “No,” he started again, “My only friend almost died today – saving you, so don’t play with me!” He then backed away from the other, turning his back from him. “Do not play with me,” he said again.

 Jinyoung watched as the red mage’s spine rose and dropped, the man taking deep breaths to try to calm down. “You think I don’t know that,” Jinyoung returned, “You think I wouldn’t take that seriously?” His voice was sincere and open – vulnerable. He may have been arrogant but not when he owed someone his life. “I’m serious.” He then walked over towards the other and put a hand on his shoulder. The red snatched away but turned all the same, his expression still angry as his hands clenched. Jinyoung frowned at the refusal but he didn’t back down. He walked closer to the other because he knew that it wasn’t anger the man actually felt. He wanted Jinyoung to be right. He wanted the black mage to be able to train him. He wanted to be able to better protect his friend. Jinyoung could see it in his eyes. His eyes showed his hope. “I can make you stronger,” Jinyoung said, “I can teach you third tier black magic spells, Red Mage. You can handle them.”

The red’s shoulders went lax, the anger draining out of him when faced with Jinyoung’s sincerity. “Please,” he begged his face open and beseeching. He then stopped and sighed, hiding his hope behind skeptical eyes. Jinyoung could practically see the walls build back up, but for a moment he saw the other’s truth. He saw the little boy that clung to his friend, the boy who didn’t want to be alone. Yet he also saw the man that had the strength to ensure that he will be never alone again, the man that would destroy anything to keep it from being so. It startled Jinyoung how much he saw himself in the other.  “How,” the mage questioned, “I’m a Red Mage. You know that. Although I can cast both white and black magic, I can only cast up to second tier spells. That’s the burden of wielding both.”

Jinyoung nodded. He knew this information, yet he could feel it within the other. He could feel that he was different. “You’re right, Red Mage,” Jinyoung answered, “But you’re different.” The man across from him frown his brows in confusion and the inquisitive look made Jinyoung smile. He wanted to learn what Jinyoung had to teach. “You’re stronger,” he answered the other’s silent question.

“Stronger,” the other repeated, “Stronger how?” The frown on his face deepened as his confusion grew. Noticing the look, Jinyoung figured that the red wasn’t used to being confused. It only made the prospect of training the other mage that much more interesting to Jinyoung. He would catch on quickly, Jinyoung concluded, grow quickly.

Jinyoung merely walked ahead of the questioning mage, keeping his thoughts to himself. He had to convince the other that he could be taught before anything else. “Do you remember what you felt earlier,” Jinyoung asked instead of answering the other’s question, “The ‘tingle’?” He looked over his shoulder to only find that the other was already by his side. His fellow mage had caught up to him quickly and Jinyoung was suddenly reminded of the other’s physical prowess. That was something else that made a red mage different from their counterparts. He then saw the man nod to his question as he rubbed at his uncovered arm. “I felt it too,” Jinyoung continued, “That tingle was the excess magic that we don’t use brushing against one another. Since we don’t use it in spells it seeps from our pores instead. Makes room for new magic to be produced.”

“So what,” the red asked as he watched the dirt road in front of him. Jinyoung questioned the downward focus until he realized that the other was thinking. He was piecing the information together. “I still have extra magic right after a fight,” he question, “But how? I clearly needed an ether earlier. I ran out of MP, how can I still have excess magic?”

“That’s just how quickly you produce magic,” Jinyoung answered him, “The techniques you were using would have completely drained another mage, red or otherwise. Adding elemental damage to your weapons is no easy feat. It’s definitely beyond a normal red mage’s repertoire.” The red looked up; his face questioning as he took in the information Jinyoung gave him. “That’s why you ran out of MP earlier, but it doesn’t regulate how much magic you produce.” The red then passed his finger along the strap that stretched across his chest with a frown marring his face. “I know what you’re thinking,” Jinyoung laughed at the frowning man, “You don’t have to stop elementally charging your weaponry, Red Mage. I’m simply here to expand your abilities, not limit them. I’m simply giving you more options.”

“Ok,” the man began, “But why?” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at the vague question and the look made the other continue. “I mean,” he said, “Maybe the better question is how. You said that you have extra magic too, right.” Jinyoung nodded. “So, that would explain why Min said you had power coming off of you in waves,” the man mumbled. He then looked to Jinyoung, the two catching eyes. “She felt the magic seeping out of you.” He then pulled his hands in front of his eyes, turning them back and forth. “And you’re saying that I do it too. Why? How?”

Jinyoung paused for a moment as he thought over the other’s question. The two walked along in companionable silence as they waited. “How,” Jinyoung repeated after a while. The other mage looked up as the silence was broken, knowing that the other was ready to answer him. “I guess the best way to explain is,” he said, “Imagine that everyone has a twenty ounce ‘magic container’.” The red mage raised an eyebrow but still nodded, waiting for the other to continue. “Most people’s bottles are empty,” Jinyoung started, “But for the normal mage theirs are filled to... let’s say the sixteen ounce mark.” He then raised both of his hands, using them to give visual aid to his explanation. “Black mages’ bottles,” Jinyoung said, raising his right hand, “Are filled with sixteen ounces of black magic.” He then raising his left hand, “White mages’ tanks are filled with sixteen ounces of white magic. It’s filled enough so they can cast third tier in their respected class.”

The red nodded, eyes on the other’s hands. “Ok,” he said. He then paused for a moment, his face scrunching as he thought. He was absorbing things just as Jinyoung expected. “Then what of red mages,” he asked, “What are their ‘twenty ounce bottles’ filled with? Both?”

 Jinyoung nodded, smirking to hide his excitement. Not only was the red mage learning quickly but he was interested. He’ll have a new pupil soon enough. “Exactly,” he said, “Their ‘bottles’ are filled with ten ounces of white magic and ten ounces of black magic.” He then placed both of his hands on top of one another to demonstrate his point. “They have more overall magic than the normal mage,” Jinyoung explained, “But since the two classes share a bottle, they are forced to hold less in each class.”

“So that’s why red mages are only able to cast up to second tier spells,” the other concluded. The two continued to walk as Jinyoung nodded. “They simply don’t have enough magic.” Again the black mage nodded.

“Right again,” Jinyoung smiled. He then placed his hands into his pockets, turning to the other with an impish smirk on his face. “Then there’s you.” The red made another questioning face, frowning irately as he waited for the other to elaborate. Jinyoung saw the irritation and he wondered if the red mage was just as tired of his theatrics as Jaebum was. “You’re different,” Jinyoung began in order to pacify him, “You don’t have one ‘twenty ounce bottle’. You have two.” The irritation quickly faded at Jinyoung’s remark, awe taking its place. “One is filled with sixteen ounces of black magic.” Jinyoung smiled despite the look of disbelief the other wore, “The other filled with sixteen ounces of white magic.”

“What,” the other asked, “Why?” Jinyoung simply shrugged with his hands still deeply shoved into his pockets as they continued to walk towards Ferin. “No,” the other fussed, “Don’t just shrug! Why?” Jinyoung laughed, unable to hold it back this time as the two mages started to approach the lone gas station that sat outside of the town.

Jinyoung opened the door, the bell overhead ringing loudly in the silence of the empty store. He looked behind him with a devious smile as he stepped aside to let the other in. “I honestly don’t know why,” Jinyoung shrugged again. The blasé motion made the other frown as he entered before the other. “You’re just different.” Jinyoung then frown as he looked along the line of the other’s broad shoulders and the quiver that stretched from his left shoulder to his right hip. “I’ve never seen a red mage with as much magical prowess as you,” he said seriously as he continued to watch the other’s back, “It’s quite frightening to be honest. The things that you could possibly do...”

The red sighed as he let his hands ghost upon the shelves his friend ran into earlier. “Frightening,” he repeated, “Different tends to be frightening.” Jinyoung looked up when he heard the dejected response, eyebrow raised in question. “It’s just,” the red answered, “Isn’t being a red mage ‘frightening’ enough?”

“You speak as if being frightening is a bad thing,” Jinyoung said as he walked further within the store. He then turned his attention to the counter, smiling as he met eyes with the female clerk from earlier. He remembered how she flinched away from him once she felt the magic he gave off. He remembered the fear in her eyes. She seemed to remember him as well, backing away from the counter as he approached. Her cowering in front of his power was enticing. “There’s nothing wrong with invoking a little fear, Red Mage,” Jinyoung said as he gave a friendly smile over the counter. He let his power roll off of him in abundance, the air becoming suffocating because of it. Both the girl and his fellow mage choked from the extra pressure.

“Knock it off,” the other mage said, “I get it.” Jinyoung frowned but did as he was told. The air cleared instantly, the atmosphere becoming calm again as if nothing happened.  The girl still looked at the two warily, flinching away when the red reached behind him towards his bow and arrows. “I’m not going to hurt you, Min,” he frowned. He then pulled the Behemoth’s horn from out of his quiver and placed it on the counter gently. “I didn’t earlier, right?” The girl still cautiously eyed the two as she took the horn and felt its weight in her hands. She obviously didn’t believe him.

“It doesn’t matter if you _will_ hurt her,” Jinyoung spoke. He watched as the girl, named Min apparently, turned the horn to and fro as she checked its authenticity. “All that matters is that you _can_ hurt her.” Both the store’s occupants looked to the other after he spoke but he knew that his words were the truth. He’s seen enough to know.

“That is not true,” Min spoke. Jinyoung blinked after the girl talked, not expecting her to speak. He locked eyes with her almost as if he was daring her to counter him. She took his challenge in stride, not letting it deter her from what she wanted to say. “It’s not about capability,” she continued, “It’s about trust.” The two looked at her, each processing her words. “You’re not frightening because of your powers but because we can’t trust you to use them for the right thing.”

Jinyoung then tilted his thick lips into a wicked smirk. “I suppose you’re right there,” he said. He then stocked closer to the desk, leaning heavily upon it. “I can’t be trusted to do the right thing.” He then whispered shortly, ancient dialect slipping almost silently from his mouth. The lights overhead flickered, turning off before blinking back on repeatedly. The last of his spell was on the tip of his tongue but the red mage held a silver dagger in front of his moving lips. The blade was so close and so quick that he felt the cold of the steel between his lips, a small trickle of blood leaking on the inside of his bottom lip. He cracked a smile and ran his tongue over the blade before the red pulled it back. “But I suppose that’s why he’s here, right,” Jinyoung continued. He then turned to the red, “I hope you didn’t use that on the Behemoth earlier, Red Mage.”

“You probably should have asked that before you licked it,” the man answered clearly amused. Jinyoung glared but the man held up his hands in surrender. “No,” he said, “I have a few to throw if I ever run out of arrows.”  He then returned the dagger back to its original location, a pouch that latched to his thigh.

 Jinyoung followed the movement, noticing a larger decretive dagger that was magnetized to the other’s lower back. The blade was longer than the other he just used, thicker as well. The tip was pure black in the places that it wasn’t covered in blood. It was clearly made of very high quality mythril. The hilt was golden between bloody specks and was covered in various gems, showing brightly in the harsh fluorescent lights of the store. It was clearly something too expensive for the red mage to have and as Jinyoung’s hand reached towards it he wondered where the other earned the gil for such an extravagant weapon. “Was this the dagger you used,” he asked as he reached. The other mage grabbed his wrist before he could even get close to his hip. He placed the appendage back at Jinyoung’s side, his eyes never meeting the other’s. The movement was fleeting, nearly gentle, but the grip was brutal and made the implications clear. The dagger was not something Jinyoung was allowed to touch. “Something special, Red Mage,” Jinyoung questioned uncaringly. He threw a smirk over towards the other but he also held his now bruised wrist tenderly.

Jinyoung frowned down at his wrist when he saw the other wasn’t looking. The other’s speed and strength was only a small margin lower than Jaebum’s now that his dragon was gone and his magic levels envied his own. The other was truly the epitome of a well-rounded warrior, but Jinyoung supposed that was to be true for all red mages. However here, the potential the other had was astonishing.

“Yeah,” the red mage answered. His face showed his guilt when he finally looked over to Jinyoung and saw his red, slightly swollen wrist. It was as if he didn’t realize he grabbed the man that tightly. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He faced the counter after his apology, ignoring Jinyoung as he tugged his shirt over the gorgeous dagger to hide it behind the bloody fabric. “Can I get a canister, Min? My car needs gas,” he asked, “You can take it out of the reward gil.”

The girl looked up from her glare when he spoke, her eyes wide. “Yeah sure,” she answered. She then placed the horn onto the counter as she dipped underneath it. She pulled out a red gas canister sitting it down with frown. “I still can’t believe you guys pulled it off,” she said as she looked at the horn, “But I can say that I’m glad that you did.”

“I’d love it if you showed you gratitude with your gil,” Jinyoung commented. He hands were back into his pockets, the red wrist peeking from the top. Min glared at the man, but Jinyoung just smiled. He’s faced things much scarier than this girl could ever be. “Don’t make me start whispering again, girl.”

“Why didn’t you bring Jackson with you instead,” Min sassed as she emptied out the safe behind her, “He’d be much better company than this prick.” She was ducked underneath the counter when she spoke, however the deafening silence forced her to stand up once again. A painful grimace carved itself into the mages’ faces while she was gone and she could feel dread wash over her. “Where’s Jackson?”

The lights flickered on and off again as the atmosphere became stifling. The red’s fists were balled as anger morphed his face, his arms shaking. “Red Mage,” Jinyoung called. He grabbed onto the other’s forearm, fighting the urge to flinch away when their intermingled magic sent uncomfortable tingles up his arm. The mage jumped from the touch, the store returning to normal. “Stay calm,” Jinyoung said, “You’re scaring the locals.”

The other looked up after Jinyoung spoke. He eyes widened when he saw that the black mage was right. Min stood frozen at the counter, the gil from the safe clutched tightly in her hands. The girl looked petrified. “I did that,” the red mage asked. Jinyoung nodded. He debated with himself before finally deciding to squeeze his arm briefly in an attempt in comfort before just as quickly letting go. The man barely reacted to the added pressure as he broke eye contact with Min and stared at the counter with a troubled expression. He then shook his head, the pieces of red hair that wasn’t clinging to his face moving wildly before he snatched the canister and exited from the store.

“What did I say,” Min asked but Jinyoung briskly ignored her. He looked at the other mage’s retreating back with a contemplating frown in his face. He couldn’t say that didn’t expect the other to react that way, but the amount of raw power he exuded was still astonishing even if it was expected. Jinyoung thought over his offer as the bell rung loudly when the door slammed shut. He wondered what type of hell he would be unleashing if he helped the other reach his full potential. “Hello,” the store clerk called again from behind the counter but she was once again rudely ignored. He then supposed it didn’t matter. Jinyoung found joy in unleashing hell. “What did I say? Did something happen to Jackson? Mark was covered in blood. Was it Jackson’s?”

Jinyoung sighed when the girl spoke again. He might as well answer her, but the other was getting further away. “Yes,” he answered. He then turned to Min, “Hurry and pack our gil. I would like to reach him before he wonders away.” Min just blinked after Jinyoung spoke and the black mage could see the questions she had on her lips, but they were not of his concern. He raised his hand just as her mouth opened. His lips then moved around ancient words before pausing. “Finish gathering our gil or I finish casting my spell.” The girl looked unsure so Jinyoung continued, speaking louder this time. “Do you know what spell this is,” he asked in between syllables. Min shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She finally heeded his warning and dipped below the counter to pulled out a bag and begin adding the 300,000 gil into it. “Good girl,” he said. He peeked behind his shoulder briefly to verify if his fellow mage was still there, which he was, but he didn’t know for how long. “Hurry up,” he said and the girl stuffed the bag faster.

“You’re an asshole,” Min frowned before passing the bag over the counter. She snatched it back to her chest when Jinyoung reached for it, though. “Tell me what happened to Jackson and I’ll give you the money.” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow in warning but this time Min took no heed. “Tell me,” she fussed. The hard frown on her face softened when Jinyoung snatched the bag from her hands and headed to the door. “Please,” she begged, “Tell me if he’s at least ok.”

Jinyoung paused with his back towards her, the bag hanging in his grasp. He didn’t know if he should answer her. He did have the gil now. He could just leave. Then he thought of the blonde that was in Jaebum’s care. He thought of his sacrifice. He wondered how he’s touched this girl. If it was in the same way he touched Jinyoung, then the girl deserved some sort of answer. “I can’t really tell you,” he began. He voice was soft and sympathetic, a single man forming an understanding between them. “But he is in good hands.” He turned briefly to see that her face soften in relief, seeming as though as weight was lifted from her shoulders. “You seem to care a lot for him.”

She gave a sad smile then. “Yeah,” she said, “Probably more than he’ll ever care for me.” Jinyoung quirked up in question, almost cat-like in his movement. What would make her think that? “What we had wasn’t really a relationship,” she answered, “More of an arrangement, but that’s hard to keep when he’s so charming.” She blushed after she spoke and Jinyoung thought that the color looked misplaced on her face. Not once did she seem bashful or shy when debating with him but just one mentioning of a blonde swordsman and she’s a school girl. “Don’t tell him I said that,” she suddenly snapped embarrassedly. Jinyoung smiled at the outburst. This was more like her.

“I’ll keep it between us,” he smirked. He took the gil before leaving the store, giving a half-hearted salute on his way out.

  --------------

Mark held his canister to the gas pump, absentmindedly filling it. He watched it with disinterested eyes, his attention shifting to his blood covered hands more consistently than he was watching the jug. He wondered if he would see the magic that seeped from them – if someone else could see the trail they left behind. Could he have been running all this time, dragging Jackson along with him, and leaving a trail to follow? He already knew that magic was easy to trace but if what the other said was true, then he was extremely easy to trace. His residue must be powerful and constantly leaking from him. Plus he was a red mage and their rezz was unique enough already. He was a walking target.

Then there was what happened in the store. He’s never done anything like that before. He felt his magic rise until it was just under his skin. He felt it move and writhe as it fought to get free. He almost couldn’t hold it back. He truly thought he was going to light the building on fire and they he had to leave before he did. For once he felt... powerful and it wasn’t a good experience. He felt as though he was going to burst. “Do you always feel like this,” Mark asked. The shadow that was closing in on him paused, most likely surprised that Mark knew he was coming, but it quickly got over it and stood in front of Mark. The other raised an eyebrow in question as he leaned comfortably on the gas pump. “Like you’re about to burst,” Mark explained, “When the lights were flickering in there I didn’t have any control. I thought my magic was going to burst from my skin.”

The black mage, Jinyoung if Mark remembered correctly, looked up with a smirk. “All the time,” he said amused. “It comes with having so much power,” he continued. He then pushed off the pump and faced Mark. His hands were still in his pockets with a bag filled with their gil hanging heavily on his bruised wrist. When Mark looked up at his eyes again he noticed that they were uncharacteristically serious. “You have to learn how to control that,” he said, “You can’t go around blowing up buildings when you’re angry.”

Mark frowned but he knew that the other was right. “And let me guess,” he sighed, “You’ll be the one to teach me.” He pulled the nozzle from his gas canister before roughly putting back in the pump. How does he get himself in these types of situations? He doesn’t even know if he should trust the other, but he felt that if he didn’t want to endanger anyone he had to.

“Yes,” Jinyoung answered. He then lowered his shoulders, letting himself seem more approachable. Mark wasn’t sure if he could do the same. “Look,” the black mage began, “You can either come with me to Riel and let me teach you or you’ll end up blowing up the block the next time someone brings up your blonde.”

Mark glared at the other but the expression dropped once he thought about the black mage’s words. He sounded concerned for him, as if he had some obligation to help him. Mark didn’t understand why the powerful mage was even giving him any of his time. “Why are you doing this,” Mark asked, “Is it because of Jackson?”

“Somewhat,” the mage said. He then looked towards the direction they came from, a sly look on his face. “He did save my life,” he casually mentioned, “I suppose this is my way of paying him back.” Mark eyed the other questioningly but Jinyoung only smiled when he felt the eyes on him. “Teaching the one that cares about him how to better protect him,” he said as if tasting the idea on his lips, “That way he can be saved the same way he’s saved me. I like the idea.”

“Why not just protect him yourself,” Mark asked. He began to walk back out of the gas station and towards his abandoned car, sure that the other mage was following him.

“It’s simple, Red Mage,” Jinyoung commented as he took stride beside him, “Black mages aren’t meant to protect.” Mark frowned at the answer. It wasn’t what he was expecting from the arrogant mage. He thought that the other would believe that he could do anything. “Black mages destroy, not protect. I’ll leave that up to the ones with the healing magic.” He smirked to Mark but the red could tell that the gesture was false. It didn’t reach the other’s eyes. Mark wondered what caused the sadness that reflected there instead. However just as quickly as it came, it was gone, his face serious once again. “You have to get better, Red mage,” Jinyoung began, “I know you’ve heard of them, the Red Mage Experiments.” Mark paused with Jinyoung pausing with him. He stepped in front of the red, making sure to catch his eyes. “They’re building something,” Jinyoung said, “I didn’t know what at first, but after feeling your magic, I get it. They’re trying to build something like you.”

Mark looked up shocked. Not many knew of the Red Mage Experiments.  He doubted if Jackson even knew about them. “How do you know about that,” Mark asked. Jinyoung sighed before pulling down the collar of his expensive shirt, exposing his neck and collarbone. Along the column of his throat and the width of his right shoulder laid a thick scar. The skin was raised and ridged, looking like a grotesque mountain range among his otherwise perfect skin.  The mark was a dull pink that stood out against his pale coloring. To Mark it looked as though someone tried to physically rip the other apart before hastily putting him back together again. “What happened to you,” Mark whispered.

Jinyoung laughed as he put his collar back. “Don’t sound too concerned, Red Mage,” he said, “People might actually think that you like me.” Mark frowned instantly at the teasing but he couldn’t deny that he was interested if nothing else. “To answer your question,” Jinyoung continued coyly, “I was one of their test subjects. It’s hard not to know about an experiment that you were a part of.” The black mage then dropped all pretenses. He stripped away his cockiness and turned down his nose. He looked at Mark with such intensity that the red mage couldn’t turn away. “They’re trying to combine the classes, make someone that can master both white and black magic. You fall under that category. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you, nor do I want your friend to die trying to prevent that.” Mark was taken aback by the other’s confession. He didn’t think that Jinyoung would bother. The black mage laughed, “Don’t look so surprised. I wouldn’t be wasting my time if I didn’t feel like you and your blonde was worth saving, Red Mage.”

“I,” Mark began. He then quickly back-pedaled. He didn’t know where to even begin. “Thank you,” he said. He supposed that was a good place to start. Jinyoung simply waved his hand. “No, really,” Mark insisted, “Thank you. Only Jackson’s looked out for me like this.”

“Really think nothing of it, Red Mage,” Jinyoung said, “Think of it as another way for me to pay my savior back. I’ll repay him by making his red-headed friend a force of nature.” Mark raised an eyebrow, ready to question what a force of nature meant, but he caught sight of his car before he could. He broke into an excited run, the black mage barely able to catch up. “Really,” Jinyoung yelled as he ran behind the other, “I’m not as fit as you!”

Mark slowed as he finally approached his baby. Man, did he miss her! The red swears that walking was for peasants. “It’s ok,” he said as he wiped fallen moss from off the hood, “I’ll never let Jackson drive again.” He then looked over his shoulder when Jinyoung’s heavy footsteps echoed behind him. The man was bent over with his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily from his open mouth. His hair was wildly windswept and his cheeks were red from exertion. Mark found it somewhat adorable and something that he could finally tease him about. “Really,” Mark questioned smugly, “That wasn’t even that far of a run. Are you really that unfit?” The mage made to retort but his hurried breaths cut off all his arguments. Mark laughed at the jumbled up sounds. “Maybe I can teach you something,” he said as he opened his car door and hopped inside, “Stamina for one.”

Jinyoung flopped into the backseat, spreading himself out. He let his ankles rest on top of the open window. He gave the red a lecherous smirk though the rearview mirror, “If sex isn’t involved, you won’t be teaching me anything about stamina.”

Mark dipped his head back to laugh before finally driving back to camp. “Hey,” Mark smiled back into the mirror. His wicked grin showed off his sharp canines and spoke of nothing but trouble. “I can do that for you,” he purred, “If it can get your lazy ass to actually run, I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Jinyoung eyes widened for a moment and his cheeks colored pink. “I should have talked to you a while ago,” he said. “This is much better than the silent treatment from earlier.” Mark gave a sheepish grin to the mirror and began to explain himself, but Jinyoung interrupted him. “I understand, Red Mage,” he said, “I’m worried too. However I know Jaebum will take good care of him.”

Mark nodded, his finger tapping the steering wheel and Jinyoung closing his eyes until the red noticed something. “You know I have a name, right,” he asked, “You’ve been calling me ‘Red Mage’ this entire time.”

Jinyoung lazily opened his eyes and Mark could feel that the other had something rude to say. However the man only stayed silent. “Well,” the black mage finally said, “You’re going to tell me it?”

 Mark sighed. He knew it was coming. “It’s Mark,” he said. Jinyoung opened his mouth to introduce himself but Mark stopped him. “No need,” Mark said, “Jinyoung, right? I saw your name when Jackson and I added ourselves to your contract.”

 Mark turned a corner, the tent coming into view. “Seems like we’re back,” Jinyoung mentioned without opening his eyes. Mark was about the question how the other knew but Jinyoung answered before he could. “I can feel the rune I left.

“Speaking of the rune,” Mark said as he pulled into a stop. He pulled his keys from out of the ignition and faced the lounging mage, “How did you do that?”

“Oh, that,” Jinyoung shrugged in his arrogant manner, “It was nothing. You know, I can teach you.” Before Mark could respond, Jinyoung was already outside of the car. He slipped past Jaebum, ignoring him and his shout to be quiet because Jackson was still sleeping, stepping into the tent.

Mark walked over to the fuming Jaebum. He seemed angry but he could see the fondness in his eyes. “He grows on you,” Mark said to the man. The dragoon gave an exasperated smile before nodding in agreement. “So,” Mark frowned, “How’s Jackson?”

“I’m just fine.” Jackson walked from out of the tent a button up that definitely wasn’t his laid open on his shoulders. He was leaning on Jinyoung but was conscious and that was enough for Mark. His bandages were spotted in red, his blood already seeping through, but he was alive. “Stop staring,” the blonde joked, “I mean I know I’m sexy but goodness, Mark.”

The red rolled his eyes. Leave it to Jackson to joke after taking a Behemoth spike to the chest. “Yeah you’re just fine,” he sassed. He face then softened as he walked towards the other and placed Jackson’s arm across his shoulder, taking Jinyoung’s place. “C’mon, lets get you inside the car.” Jackson began to protest but the glare Mark gave him trapped the words behind the sparking teeth of his wide smile. “To the car,” the red repeated.

Jinyoung gladly gave Jackson over, not wanting to carry the burden and walked back towards the car, making himself at home. Jaebum followed the other, opening the front door and sitting inside. Jackson gave the two extras a confused looked before turning to Mark. His features smoothed out when he saw the acceptance on Mark’s face. “We’re going with them aren’t we,” he asked.

Mark simply smiled as he opened the back door and laid Jackson across Jinyoung’s lap. The mage accepted him with open arms, patting his hair once they were comfortable. Mark then sat in the driver’s seat and flashed the same smile to Jackson from the rearview mirror. “We’re going with them.” With that he started to car and pull off. “Where are we going,” he asked Jaebum.

“South,” the dragoon said. Mark noticed that he locked eyes with Jackson through the mirror as he spoke, “To Riel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this is late! I've literally been working on this chapter the entire month of September! I've also started class and started working, so I really had to find time. Not to mention that I scrapped the first half of this chapter so many times! Any who, I hope you like it! I also gave a little explanation on magic and Red Mages. If anything is confusing let me know. I can answer it by replying or in the next chapter (Mark's learning things too so I can teach the reader and him at the same time) PS: I love evil Jinyoung!!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly I just want to apologize. I'm sorry to those that were reading this. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in so long. It's been six flipping months since I've updated and that is just ridiculous. I have my reasons of course, but none of them are good enough to have kept you waiting as long as I have. So I just want to apologize. (Goodness that was dramatic but I wanted to be sincere, you know...) Secondly I want to say that I don't know how often (if ever) I can post. I really love this story and I want to write it, but life just won't let me. However, I have at least half of the story planned and sloppily drafted. I say this because I want to know if you guys would want to me to just post that. If I never finish this story and you guys are interested in where it was going I can post that so you guy can still get the 'epic' adventure you signed up for. Let me know (if you're still here) if you want something like that. Even if I post the chart and draft it doesn't mean that I won't still finish. As I said, I really want to write this. So let me know in the comments (but that's even if you still care). Anyway on to the chapter.

The car settled into a comfortable silence soon after pulling off. There were many questions to be asked but for now they let the engine’s hum fill the silence, calming the passengers after their eventful day. Jinyoung still sat in the back, his legs still near the gear shift despite the tingles that ran along them. He could feel Mark’s arm where it rested on top of his shins, the man’s still bloody fingers playing with the gear as his other hand steered the car. Jaebum’s elbow was nudged into his right calf, the dragoon’s thighs near his toes. The man laid his exhausted head on the headrest as his dark hair blew wildly in his sharp eyes. Finally in Jinyoung’s lap rested the head of his savior, Jackson. The blonde had his eyes closed, soft breaths coming from his once very active mouth. Jinyoung carded his fingers through the blonde’s hair as he dug himself deeper into the leather of his seat. He closed his eyes as well and as his eyes fell shut Jinyoung couldn’t help but notice that he was surrounded by strangers, yet he felt so comfortable. He felt as though he belonged and that was a feeling he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

“So,” Mark began. He shifted in his seat, making a spark run up Jinyoung’s leg as their magic pushed against one another. They both shivered. It was still strange for Jinyoung to feel another that could dispel raw magic in the abundance that he could. It was rare but then again so was Mark. “What’s out here,” he asked, “Because we’ve been driving for hours and there’s been nothing but trees.”

“Just keep going south,” Jaebum said. His head was still lying on the headrest, his eyes closed and relaxed. It was rare to see Jaebum like this, Jinyoung noticed. It was even more so when there were strangers around. His lance was safely stashed away in the trunk, far from his reach, and the top half of his armor was gone. For the first time since Jinyoung met him, he looked human. “There’s a town near here. We can rest up there and recoup,” the dragoon finished. He voice was easy despite his leading and Jinyoung could somewhat understand why people would follow him.

Mark nodded, falling in line like people tend to do when Jaebum gave orders, but Jackson shifted in Jinyoung’s lap. A frown tugged on his lips, his face thoughtful. “A town,” he questioned. He moved again, pulling Jinyoung’s arm from his hair to across his chest so he could turn towards Jaebum. “What town?” Jaebum opened an eye, obviously put off. Not many people questioned his decisions. While Jinyoung challenged them – or even ignore them – he didn’t ask the dragoon for details. Jackson wanted to discuss Jaebum’s orders before following them and that was new. Jinyoung figured that the other would get offended, allow his temper to show its ugly head. However the other just turned and looked Jackson in the eye, frowning as well. “No,” Jackson said to Jaebum’s silent response, “Not Windale. Are you trying to get us killed?”

“It’ll be fine,” Jaebum countered. He lay back once again, resting his head back on the headrest. The discussion was over. Jackson frown deepened but he still flopped back down. Jinyoung wasn’t expecting the easy surrender. Jackson seemed like the type to push and rebel but he too followed eventually. Jinyoung frowned, disappointed, but he still accepted the injured swordsman and entangled his fingers through the man’s hair once again.

Jinyoung sighed. If no one was going to challenge Jaebum then he will. “So what’s Windale and why is Jackson so upset about it,” he asked. Jinyoung watched Jaebum as he sighed tiredly and twitched in his seat. Jinyoung knew that reaction. The dragoon wanted him to blindly agree. However Jinyoung was never very good at falling in line. The black mage felt a smirk twitch at the corner of his lips. No matter how things changed and how many people are added to their dynamic, he still loved taking Jaebum down a peg. “So, what stupidity are you about to spit out this time,” he teased.

“It’s not stupidity if it’s our only option,” Jaebum returned sharply. He was the commander again, his voice cold and offering no room for arguments. Jinyoung just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. It would take a stronger man than Jaebum to make him bow down. “Mark is covered in blood and Jackson,” Jaebum continued just as coldly, “Despite acting as though he’s fine is most likely in a lot of pain. We have to find somewhere for them to rest.” Jinyoung’s smirk fell from his face. That caught his attention.

However, Jackson just huffed in annoyance. “I’m a big boy,” Jackson sassed, “I don’t need you to monitor me and I can rest just fine right here.” He raised his hand in order to gesture at Jinyoung but paused and hissed as he pulled at his stitches. The black mage gently took the swordsman’s hand and laid it back across his chest, but the gesture just made the man more upset. “Look,” he leveled, “We’re not stopping in Windale just because I’m sore. I’ll be fine.”

Mark sighed angrily before he pulled the car over. He turned completely around in his seat and leveled his friend with a stern stare. “You are not fine,” he said emphasizing every word. Jackson opened his mouth to speak but Mark stopped him with a raised hand. His brows were creased in anger and Jinyoung was reminded of the wounded man he saw earlier in Ferin. “No,” he said, “You’re not fine! You just took a Behemoth spike to the chest! You had a _crater_ in your chest before I healed you! I thought that you were gonna-” He stopped and took ragged breaths through his nose as he tried to calm down before he suddenly deflated. He turned around and flopped back into his seat before starting the engine again and turning to Jaebum. “Now,” he said, “Where’s Windale?”

“You don’t get it, Mark,” Jackson argued back, “Windale’s not safe for us.” Mark paused then, looking back as he waited for Jackson to continue. “Windale is an Imperial city,” he said, “If we go there we’ll never even make it to Riel.”

“What is he talking about,” Mark questioned. He parked the car again as he turned accusatory eyes to Jaebum. “Are you leading us to the Imperials?” He hands were clutching the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “Are you still working for them?”

The dragoon looked taken aback by the accusation, then angered by it. He returned the stare, danger radiating off of him even without his golden lance and legendary blood red armor He clutched at his ruby medallion, the jewel hanging dully from his neck. “I have my own bone to pick with the Imperials,” he said, “I would never lead you to them unless it is to lead you against them.”

“Then why are you sending us to an Imperial city,” Mark rebutted. He wasn’t convinced if the spike in magic was any indicator. The pressure within the car started to become heavier and the gentle tingles that ran along Jinyoung’s leg was quickly turning into painful currents digging into his skin.

“Calm down, Red Mage,” Jinyoung advised from his seat. “You may be powerful but Jaebum is not someone you should trifle with, even without his dragon.” Mark huffed and then turned his angered eyes to Jinyoung. “Neither am I,” the black mage warned. The red kept his glare but followed Jinyoung’s advice. He knew who the stronger of them were. The air returned to normal as the mage settled back into his seat, breathing deeply. Now that Mark was calm, Jinyoung turned to Jaebum. He wanted answers as well. “Now, explain yourself, Jaebum,” Jinyoung said to the dragoon, “Because I don’t want to go back to that hell and I don’t want to make you my enemy.”

The anger melted off Jaebum’s face after the black mage spoke and pain flickered briefly in his eyes. Jinyoung knew that Jaebum was thinking of the labs he inadvertently brought the mage to. He could tell from Jaebum’s face that the former soldier would feel the guilt of his mistake for the rest of his life. “I don’t want you back there either, Jinyoung,” he finally and said. He turned towards the mage and his sharp eyes were rounded by sincerity, his voice softened by desperation. “I would never take you back to the Imperials again,” he said, “Any of you.” He then turned and leaned back onto the headrest, resting a wary hand across his forehead. The sigh that followed was tired and his eyes were closed again but he began to explain. “Look, Windale is an undercover Imperial city,” he started robotically, as if he was reciting from a distant memory, “It’s where they force their scientists to live in order to keep them far enough away from civilization that they can’t spill any company secrets or get killed.” He paused then and wiped his resting hand across his face. Jinyoung could see the guilt in his reflection in the windshield. “I used to escort them there,” he said sadly. He paused again and breathed deep, forcing the guilt from his expression. He voice was robotic again when he continued, back to business. “There aren’t any guards,” he said, “The King thought that the seclusion would be enough to keep them safe.”

“If you escorted them out here,” Jackson began, “They wouldn’t know about your defection.” Jaebum nodded and the two shared another look. “Wait,” he continued, “They don’t know about any of us, do they?” He sat up on his elbows, the appendages digging into Jinyoung’s thighs. He gave Jaebum an incredulous look, his voice taking on a higher octave as he asked, “How long have they been out here?”

“Years,” Jaebum answered. He voice was low and regretful, his eyes no longer able to meet Jackson’s. “Years,” he repeated. “I was still a rookie when I brought them out here,” the dragoon explained, “It was one of my first missions.” He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes facing the car floor and glazed over as he reminisced. “I really thought that I was bringing them out here for their own protection. I separated them from their families, from their friends, and being the idiot I was I thought it was for their own good.” His face flared in anger as he shook his head at himself. “I was such a gullible fool!”

“But wasn’t it,” Jinyoung asked. He nudged the dragoon with the tip of his foot. However the motion wasn’t enough to pull the man back to the present. He turned and sat still, staring out of the window. Jinyoung sighed but still continued his question. “If it was not to keep the scientists safe then why isolate them?”

“To keep them in line,” Mark mumbled. The occupants turned to him surprised, not expecting him to speak. He was quiet for so long. “They put these scientists out here _because_ it’s so far removed from Empire City,” he said, “Not to protect them from their enemies.” As he spoke his voice raised, disgust making his already deep voice venomous. “Think about it,” he seethed, “The King wouldn’t want such intelligent people to be near his corruption.  Here they can stay uninformed and work blindly for the king they remember instead of rebelling against the king he’s become.” He clenched his eyes shut in fury but when he opened them again he was no longer angry. His eyes were downcast and his lip was between his sharp teeth. No he wasn’t angry. Jinyoung knew the other’s expression too well. He was disappointed. “It’s the perfect way to keep the country’s smartest people working for him,” he said with a dejected sigh, “It would be genius if it wasn’t so disgusting.”

“We’ll fix this,” Jackson sounded from Jinyoung’s lap. His usually boisterous voice was soft but so very determined. “Do you hear me, Markie,” he asked. He reached his hand across his wounded chest, swallowing a hiss to put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “We’ll fix this,” he repeated, “It’s what we’re going to Riel for.” Mark nodded absently and Jackson gave the red mage’s shoulder a squeeze before returning to Jinyoung’s lap.

The raven mage looked down at the blonde as he lay with his eyes closed, breathing away his pain. He put himself through that just to comfort his friend. His words were so simple, yet so meaningful and so heroic. Jinyoung didn’t know if he admired them or thought them foolish. The world was not as simple as Jackson’s words or Mark’s anger or even Jaebum’s guilt made it out to be. “It’s not an easy fix, Jinyoung thought out-loud, “Not all of those scientists are innocent.” He removed his fingers from Jackson’s hair and fingered the cloth above his scar instead. He could feel the ridges of his raised skin as the fabric slid across it. His fingers dipped along the grotesque mark and he could swear that he still felt the pain of it. “Some of them are monsters,” he continued, “Some of them thieves.” He toed Jaebum as he absently spoke, his heart aching for the man and his misplaced dragon. “Even kidnappers and mad men,” he finished, “Not everyone deserves rescuing.”

Jackson ran the tips of his fingers along the knuckles of Jinyoung’s hand. The mage stop fingering the fabric above his scar as the other’s touch shook him from his thoughts. “And some of them are just people that were trapped with a bad mission,” he said. He looked at Jinyoung with sad doe eyes. Jinyoung couldn’t help but to notice that the blonde’s eyebrows were knitted in concern for a man he didn’t even know. “Not all people are bad,” Jackson whispered.

“Not all people are good, either,” Jinyoung countered. He then tilted his thick lips into a self-deprecating smirk. “I’m not even sure if _I’m_ all that good.” He laughed darkly and tilted his head back. Dark memories were hidden behind his smile, gallons of blood on his hands. “No,” he continued, “I’m pretty sure that I’m one of the bad guys.”

“And yet you’re still worth saving,” Jackson added. Jinyoung looked down and snorted, shock, before returning Jackson’s smile with his most mischievous smirk. The swordsman had no idea what he was talking about but Gaia, he hoped the swordsman was right. He hoped that he really was worth saving. He really hoped that he was worth the hole that was in this good man’s chest. “We can never judge if someone’s life is worth saving or not,” he continued, “So we’ll just have to save everyone.”

Jinyoung chuckled, “I suppose so.” It was such a foolish plan, so full of hot air and naive optimism. Jinyoung couldn’t help but agree. “Then that means that we’re going to Windale,” he said, “We have to start somewhere.” He looked towards Jaebum when he spoke, the other staring out of his window. He hadn’t spoken since he shared what he knew about Windale. Jinyoung wasn’t sure if the man was even listening. He held his hand loosely under the ruby that sat in the middle of his chest. A thoughtful frown etched itself slowly onto his features as he stared blankly ahead of him, rubbing at the spot as if to ease some pain.

 “Yeah,” the dragoon finally returned, “Yeah.” He laid back as the red put the car back in drive. “Just keep heading south,” Jaebum said. His raven hair whipped around him again as Mark sped along, the dark locks hiding his eyes from view. “We’ll be there soon,” he said. “And once we get there let me do all the talking, ok?”

They nodded. “I’ll trust you, for now,” Jinyoung said just as he said a year ago. Jaebum smiled satisfied with the answer and the memory it raised before hissing and rubbing at his chest again. Jinyoung looked to Jackson and saw him staring at the dragoon in concern and Jinyoung couldn’t help but to join him.

\------------

The inn keeper was cheerful and young. She smiled brightly when she saw Jaebum and gushed cutely over his red armor. Jaebum returned the smile the best he could, his eyes disappearing briefly. They talked as though they were old friends. He asked about her mother and she asked about his current mission. He lied about some diplomatic meeting – a gathering of ambassadors – and she ate it up. She looked up from her behind her long lashes and said how proud she was that her king was finally mending things between the three nations. It took a look from Jackson to get Mark to hold his tongue. Jaebum, however, took it in stride and smiled truthfully as he told her of his wish for a successful journey and his hope that it’ll make a difference. She smiled again, telling him how happy she was to see him, and handed him their key. She apologized for the room, saying heroes like them deserved better than a double. Again Jaebum had just smiled and took the key. As they walked away, Jinyoung watched as Jaebum’s smile fell and his face scrunched up in disgust. As though that simple conversation was the hardest thing Jaebum ever had to do. Then again, Jinyoung supposed that lying so blatantly to a young girl probably was the hardest thing Jaebum had to do.

The room they booked was small but better than anything they’ve slept in for days. The walls were made of the wood from the many weeping willows that outlined the small town. The shower was made with marble and lined with silver. It was beautiful. Jinyoung sighed as he settled Jaebum’s lance onto one of the two beds that occupied the room. He was worried for the dragoon. He stood over to the side, his head in his palm as his fingertips rubbed at his temples. He looked sick and has been since they decided to come to Windale.

Jinyoung crossed the small room and stood next to the dragoon. He bumped shoulders with the other, smirking teasingly. He would never outwardly question his partner’s wellbeing, but he didn’t have to. Jaebum understood.

The dragoon looked down to Jinyoung before nodding. “I’m ok,” he answered, “The real question is if they are?” He nudged his head towards the beds and frowned. Jinyoung followed and frown as well. Jaebum had been right, Jackson really wasn’t doing as well as he let on. He was in a tremendous amount of pain. His bandages bled through completely and were sticking roughly against his skin. Mark tired as best as he could to cut the wrappings from his skin before he healed him again, but the other’s muffled screams caused the red to almost toss his dagger onto the bedside table and contemplate on just casting a Cura despite the wrappings. “There’s no need to rush on that,” Jaebum called to the frustrated red. Mark looked up, the golden dagger Jinyoung noticed earlier in his hand. He paused in his tearing, simply holding the jewel ridden dagger limply in his palm. He looked relieved to be told to stop. “We don’t have any new bandages to change these with, anyway,” he continued. He walked over to Mark and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go take a shower and then clean him up,” he said, “It’ll be easier if the both of you are clean. Jinyoung and I will go out to town and get some bandages, okay?”

“But,” Mark started. However he stopped himself, knowing his insisting wasn’t helping anyone, and finally tossed the dagger away from him. “Okay,” he agreed, “Okay.” He stood and wiped his hands down his thighs, hunching his back and lowering his shoulders. He was obviously exhausted. He most likely had been tired for hours now. “Yeah,” he said dazed, “Get a shower, maybe some food, how does sound, man?” He tapped Jackson to get a response but the other was already fast asleep. “Sleep, then shower and food,” the red amended with a humorless chuckle, “You should have told me that you were in pain, you idiot.”

“You can chew him out later, Red Mage,” Jinyoung said. He pulled the other by his elbow and dragged him to the shower. Unlike before, the other made no moves to stop and allowed himself to be pulled. “You really are tired, aren’t you,” the black mage teased. The red gave him an exasperated look before sparing the same look to his reflection. He truly looked a mess. Dried blood still lined his forehead, cheeks and throat. Flakes pooled into the dip of his collar bone and nestled into the crevices between his knuckles. His hair was still matted down by sweat and blood, the shockingly crimson locks weighed down by the splotches of maroon. “Hurry and shower,” Jinyoung said.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Mark teased, “I’d think that you’re worried about me.” The red smirked at the other, his canines peeking from behind his red lips. He looked dangerous, Jinyoung thought, and the black mage could feel a since of belonging because of it. The smirk went as quickly as it came though as the man turned to the shower and adjusted the water. “Is your friend ok,” Mark asked. Jinyoung was turning to leave but stopped at Mark’s question. “He’s doesn’t look ok, Jinyoung,” he added. He was facing Jinyoung now, a concerned frown tugging at his lips. “Plus he’s hiding something.”

Jinyoung hummed unimpressed. “You and your blonde have the tendency to worry a lot about people you don’t know,” he said. He leaned against the doorframe a frown unconsciously forming on his lips. “I honestly don’t know,” he finally answered, “I’ve never seen him like this. He’s not much into lying.”

Mark huffed as he painstakingly pulled his once white tank-top from off his chest. “Coulda fooled me,” he sassed, “The lies he was feeding that girl were too perfect to come from someone that’s ‘not into lying’.” He stuck his hands under the spray and clawed at his blood covered hands, trying to remove the flakes before he stepped into the shower. “Look,” he said as he looked over his shoulder, “I only backed down because I didn’t want to go toe to toe with you.” He then turned back around, his hands no longer scrubbing. He stared into the drain as red water dripped from his fingertips. “Plus I trust you and Jackson trusts him.” He then sighed deeply; frustrated that he couldn’t voice what he wanted to say. “Just don’t screw us over, Jinyoung.”

“To be fair,” the mage countered, “If Jaebum screws you over, he’s screwing all of us over.” Jinyoung then looked out of the bathroom door. From his vantage point he could easily see the topic of their conversation. He could see the dragoon tenderly drag a rag across his lance, cleaning the behemoth’s blood from its tip. The man seemed as though he was miles away from his task. As he wiped along its blade, the sharp edge curving like the tip of a dragon’s wing, his mind seemed elsewhere. Then he absentmindedly brought it down its handle, his hands gentle as he ducked between ruby studded crevices and champagne gilded edges. It glided along the bright gold before he twisted the deadly weapon expertly around his knuckles with a flick of his wrist and placed it on his bedside. Jinyoung knew better than anyone what Jaebum was capable of. It was that hidden power that convinced him to stay with the man to begin with. However he also knew Jaebum’s shortcomings and the man’s moral standing was his biggest. “I know him,” he said, “And treachery isn’t him. He’s a hero. He breathes it.”  

“I hope you’re right,” Mark mumbled. He then pulled the door closed, leaving Jinyoung to his thoughts.

“So do I,” Jinyoung whispered to the shut door.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost I would like to thank all of you for your patience and understanding. You all are some of the coolest readers ever. It makes me want to write for you. As for posting my notes and chart, I decided to go ahead and do so. However, I have to warn you - this chart can be so far off, it's ridiculous. Seriously! When writing this chapter, I completely added conflicts that wasn't even there originally. It's insane! So that made me comfortable to post the (ridiculously unedited) drafts and charts because even if you read it, character interactions and motivations will be different. So you'll know where it's going but not exactly why. Anywho, the drafts are going to be saved as another story on my page, (once I make it I'll try to link it). I also encourage you all to read it (try to anyway) and maybe we can write this story together if you like. Maybe you can make suggestions in comment sections. I think that would be fun. Once again I really would like to thank you all.

Jaebum shut his eyes. The lights in the minimart were too bright. They were flashing red behind his closed eyelids, burning them. His head has been ringing for hours, ever since they left for Windale. He could barely focus anymore. It worsened so much. He knew in the back of his mind that the store clerk was trying to speak to him, but his words were just low murmurs compared the loud ringing in his ears. “Jinyoung,” he grounded out between clench teeth. He felt the mage shift towards him, could barely see the other’s raised eyebrow through his squinted eyes. “Take this and buy the bandages,” he continued. He reached for the pouch on the inside of his scarlet leg armor and gave the man the little gil he always kept on his person. “I need to go,” he groaned as he tried desperately to rub the pain from his temples. Jinyoung simply took the pouch and nodded, but he couldn’t hide the odd frown on his face. Jaebum didn’t know if the expression was out of concern or suspicion, with Jinyoung he could never be so sure.

Still, the dragoon turned to the door once the pouch was safely in Jinyoung’s hands. “You’re sure you trust me with this,” Jinyoung asked. Jaebum frowned when the raven spoke. He could hear the anxiety in the other’s voice despite his efforts to drown it in sarcasm. “I just might take it,” he added sly as he jiggled the pouch around, “Skip town and forget all about you.” The mage paused as he continued to play with the bag. The jiggling added to the painful ringing between Jaebum’s ears. “I just might be safer that way,” he murmured lowly.

Jaebum paused. The mage wasn’t questioning if he was trustworthy but rather if Jaebum was trustworthy. That hurt, but the fire wielder still thought it over. Was he truly as trustworthy as he wanted to be? He gave a low laugh that could barely be heard over the loud pounding in his head and the burning fire behind his eyes. “Take it,” he shrugged. He opened the door and stood at the doorframe. With his hand still on the knob he turned to look Jinyoung in the eyes. “You were never my prisoner, Jinyoung,” he continued softly and sincerely, “If you want to leave, then you’re free to go.” He shrugged once more before letting the door slowly shut behind him. “Just be sure to give Jackson his bandages before you leave,” he called between the slowly closing opening. “I don’t want anyone else dying on my watch,” he murmured before letting the door finally close. Jinyoung didn’t try to bring him back. He didn’t answer, but for Jaebum he didn’t have to. His silence spoke volumes. Maybe he was more trusted than he thought.

\--------

Jaebum and Jinyoung returned to their shared room, the black mage carrying a large pack of bandages and potions on his still bruised wrist. The pouch that Jaebum handed him earlier was still clutch tightly in his fist. Earlier he watched the man groan and hiss in pain as they walked the cobble-stone streets of Windale. The mage found that he was gripping onto the pouch with every sound. It was better than gripping onto the dragoon that gave it to him. He glance over his shoulder after the door gently clicked shut, eyeing Jaebum as he eased himself onto their bed. Mark was right, something was wrong with him – severely wrong.

“You guys are back with the bandages,” Mark asked as he entered the room. Jinyoung easily erased the concern from his face and raised the bandages with a little wiggle of his wrist. “Good,” Mark said. He quickly reached for the bag, but Jinyoung pulled it from out of his reach. “What’s up,” the red asked. His brows frowned in confusion but Jinyoung still kept the bag from out of his reach. “Jinyoung,” he softly said, “Please.”

The raven sighed. “No,” he said. Hurt openly passed along Mark’s face and Jinyoung was momentarily put off by it. He didn’t think that he had enough sway over Mark to hurt him. He honestly thought that the mage would just snatch the bag from him and hurry to Jackson. Instead the red stood docile, his eyes flashing longingly over to his sleeping friend. Jinyoung turned to look as well before sighing. His demeanor instantly softened. Perhaps they were fewer differences between them than Jinyoung was willing to admit. “I understand,” Jinyoung said, “Maybe better than anyone.” Mark’s shoulders tiredly sagged. The desperation eased from his face. “I understand,” Jinyoung repeated and the mage knew that his red mage could hear the silent words that passed heavily between them. _**I understand you. I understand your loneliness. I know what it feels like to finally have someone after not having anyone for so long. I won’t let you lose that. I won’t let you lose him.** I care about him too. I understand you more than you can ever imagine._ “But you’re a mess,” Jinyoung said aloud. Mark sighed and rubbed irritably at his red hair but he still sat dejectedly on the other side of Jackson’s bed. He may have finally cleaned the maroon from his crimson locks but he couldn’t clean the dark circles from under his eyes. He couldn’t wash away the weariness that seeped into his bones after watching his friend slowly bleed out in front of him – twice. “I’ll handle this,” Jinyoung said, “Go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Mark said. He paused for a moment as he wondered where to lie, but Jaebum silently stood up from his bed, surprising the two mages that forgot about him. He gestured to it as he went to sit at the wooden dining table across from them. “You’re sure,” the red mage asked. He looked at the dragoon, really taking him in. His leg armor was now discarded, leaving him in a soft undershirt and loose fitting cargo pants. Mark couldn’t help but to notice that the other still haven’t opened his eyes all the way since he came in. He also pressed the heel of his hand into the center of his chest just under his medallion. He sighed heavily at the pain it was obviously causing him. Mark frowned, “You look like you need the rest more than I do.”

Jaebum smirked despite the grimace that marred his face. “It’s not rest that I need,” he responded. The two mages looked at him after he spoke. He voice was alarming – venomous, dark and threatening. Mark was disturbed by the sound of it, and if Jinyoung’s glare was any indication, so was he. “Take a break,” the dragoon continued, the ice melting from his voice as if he simple blew on it – as if it wasn’t there at all.

Mark frowned but still nodded wearily as he crept into his bed. “Don’t worry,” Jinyoung said to the distrusting mage. The red turned to Jinyoung when he spoke. “I’ll take care of everything perfectly.” Again silent words were exchanged between the two of them and Mark sighed at the black mage’s silent promise. **_I’ll take care of Jackson._** He laid down, his face smashed into his pillow, falling asleep as soon as he touched it.

Jinyoung looked over the sleeping mage for a moment, letting his eyes and mind linger, before turning to the forgotten Jackson on the bed next to him. Jinyoung noticed that somehow Mark had cleaned him up. The old wrappings weren’t sticking to his skin anymore. Instead they were hastily ripped apart and gathered just to the side of his ribs. The wound itself was not so different. The skin underneath that fabric was so terrible frayed and scarred. Jinyoung knew that the blonde would wear the tear for the rest of his life. The thought made him unconsciously fingered his own displaced skin. He shook the melancholy and reached for the clean bandages. He’ll pity them another day. He dipped some of them into the potion he bought, since the man wasn’t awake to drink it, and dabbed it along his opened chest. The blonde grunted softly in his sleep as he was touched, subconsciously turning away from the pain. Jinyoung frowned but continued. It was the very least he could do. He gentled his hand and carried on, serious and undeterred.

“That’s not like you, Jinyoung,” Jaebum mumbled from behind the working mage. The other raven raised his head, his hand pausing in his work, silently telling the dragoon to continue. “Soft,” Jaebum explained. He paused, his head tilted back as he tried to think of another way to describe what he meant. “Gentle,” he finally said, “I’ve never seen you be so gentle with someone.” Jinyoung just hummed before he returned to his duty, hands softly pressing once more as he let Jaebum words fill the silent room.

“You and he saved my life,” Jinyoung said after a while. His eyes never moved from his task. His hands constantly dabbed and gently prodded. He splayed his fingers across Jackson’s chest as he taped gauze above his wounds, not wanting to move him in order to wrap him. He then brushed a hand along Jackson’s hair when he flinched to sooth him. “I can spare a little gentleness for the two of you.”

“I almost got you killed,” Jaebum whispered. Jinyoung looked to him and sighed tiredly at the guilty expression on Jaebum’s face. It seemed as though it was always there lately. “It’s different for us.” His words barely escaped from his mouth before the man choked out a harsh, ragged breath. The hand that rubbed at his chest was now grabbing it fiercely. His dull ruby left a red mark in his palm as he tried to press through it to his chest. The once small groans gradually grew into a full out scream. He jerked straight up in his seat, breathing heavily as he pawed fruitlessly at his chest.

Jinyoung hurriedly dropped the remainder of the bandages on the side of the bed and rushed to the other. However, Jaebum shoved him away. He leapt furiously from out his seat, nearly knocking it over in his aggression. Pushing passed Jinyoung; he stoked rapidly across the room to grab his lance and rushed to the door. He didn’t even stop to put his armor back on. “Where are you going,” Jinyoung shouted to Jaebum’s retreating back.

“Stay here,” Jaebum ordered. He was nearly out of the door when Jinyoung grabbed him by his bicep. He yanked the dragoon back inside, the act showing just how out of it Jaebum really was. There was no chance Jinyoung would have been able to do that normally. The dragoon easily turned around in Jinyoung’s grasp and the mage’s grip loosened when he saw the pure desperation in Jaebum’s eyes. What was going on? “Jinyoung,” Jaebum nearly begged, “Stay here.” Jinyoung’s fingers unraveled themselves from around the other’s bicep, them running down his arm before finally falling defeated by his side. The dragoon didn’t say anything but his eyes showed his gratitude. “Just trust me with this, Jinyoung,” he said before he was out of the room. The door clicked close behind him.

Jinyoung flopped unceremoniously into the chair that Jaebum nearly knocked aside in his rush. “What was that about?” Jinyoung turned to the sleep ridden voice and frowned. Now Jackson was awake. “Is he ok,” he asked, “He’s been like that since the ride over.” Jinyoung shrugged, to confused and tired to do much more. “Wait,” the blonde mumbled, “Was he rubbing his chest?” Jinyoung sat up straighter at the question and Jackson sighed at the others questioning stare. “I think it’s his dragon,” he began, “It’s gotta be nearby and it has to be in a tremendous amount of pain for him to feel it like that.”

“What,” Jinyoung exclaimed, “We haven’t seen hide or tail of his dragon in an entire year.” The mage stood from his chair and sat next to Jackson, staring him down and demanding the answers that his partner refused to give. The answers he partner didn’t trust him to hear. “Why would it be here,” he asked, “Why now?”

Jackson sighed, pushing up on his arms so he could sit up properly. The black mage reached out to assist him but he shook it away with a muttered thanks. “Look,” he began once he was situated, “When a dragoon and his dragon bond, they form a connection.” Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “It’s like,” he started, “I don’t know, telekinesis? They feel each other.” Jinyoung just simply continued to look unimpressed. He knew this. “Think about it, Jinyoung,” Jackson pressed on. He waved his arms about as he tried to explain. “We’re in a town full of scientist, off the map and kept secret, miles away from the last lab his dragon was kept. With scientists come labs. It makes since for them to drag it to a lab here. It should be the last place a rouge dragoon would be.”

“He knew this, didn’t he,” Jinyoung asked, low and quite.

“My best guess is yes,” Jackson sighed. He rubbed exasperatedly at his forehead as he pushed his blonde bangs from his face. “He’s been rubbing his head and chest since we got close to here. He must have felt the connection and led us here.” He shook his head, “Damn Jaebum, you could have just told us!”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Jinyoung said to himself, “Jaebum’s dragon was taken last year.” The mage looked to Jackson as he spoke. He could see the other’s eyes light up as he put things together. “If they brought his dragon here that means that the Imperials were here recently. They could still be around. He lied to us.”

 Jackson eyes darkened. He bit harshly into his lower lip as quickly looked over to the exhausted red mage in the bed next to him. The mage Jaebum agreed to help protect. “He did,” he said low and menacing. He voice rumbled wetly in his mangled chest. Yet, despite the injury, he still seemed dangerous. It made Jinyoung question just how heinous his crimes were. Just who was he travelling with? “He did,” Jackson repeated, intent dripping heavily from the two words.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hoped you enjoyed. Hopefully we're going to meet at least Yugyeom next time. (I actually really like Yugyeom's introduction scene). So until then.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm so excited to post this. I hope you all enjoy.

Jaebum hurried, rushing quickly as weeping willows brushed harshly pass him. He clutched his lance within his fist, his knuckles white around the gold center. His chest flared again. He was close. He knew it. He picked up speed, not even bothering to separate the branches as he passed. Stumbling clumsily through, he pushed further within the trees and surrounded himself with forest. He looked around him. The sun was setting behind the foliage, a soft breeze flowing between the hanging branches. “Wait,” Jaebum mumbled. The dragoon paused. That wasn’t a breeze. The trees moved, but his usually malleable hair didn’t. Something was there with him. 

The lancer’s first thought was to jump to higher ground, however that was out of the question. The trees were too plentiful to break through, yet their branches were too flimsy to land on. Instead Jaebum clutched his lance tighter, the weapon pointing horizontally as he circled the trees. “Come out,” Jaebum ordered. He knew that might not have been the best idea, considering he left behind his armor as well as his mage back at the inn. “Now,” Jaebum insisted. He also knew that he would not let anything get in his way. 

A lithe canine exposed itself from behind a curtain of branches. From the low growl the beast emitted, it was ready to put on a deadly performance. “Warg wolf,” Jaebum mumbled. The wolf pulled back his lips in return, leaving his maw agape. His legs were tight with anticipation. Jaebum noted that the long appendages were nearly the height of his own. He knew that if the creature were to stand on its hind-legs, it would be twice the size of him. However that didn’t stop Jaebum from menacingly approaching the beast. He’s killed many of them on his way here. Their laid-out corpses must have been the trail the wolf followed to lead it here. It didn’t matter to Jaebum. He pressed his hand over his chest and ignored the pain that ignited there. This thing will die just as everything else that separated him from his dragon. He held his lance over his shoulder and circled the wolf calmly – as if it was _his_ prey. 

The canine instantly noticed the change of dynamics. Though it continued growling, it began to back way and show fear. Jaebum didn’t let it get far. Using the nearby trees as leverage, he pushed himself off of one of their trunks and leapt onto the wolf’s back. He imbedded his lance into the back of the other’s neck, piercing through fur, skin and bone. The lance finally resurfaced on the underside of the wolf’s jaw. The beast released a hideous howl in pain, running in panic with Jaebum still firmly settled on his back. The dragoon then leapt in front of the raging beast, using his imbedded lance to drag it face-down into the dirt. The two of them slid and tumbled across the forest floor, staining it red with the wolf’s blood. With the lance still inside the wolf’s neck, Jaebum stood. He harshly pushed the horizontal lance downward. A sickening crack echoed throughout the willows as Jaebum shattered the wolf’s neck and spine into pieces. The canine instantly slumped lifelessly upon the forest floor; another corpse to add to the others. 

Once he was sure that the other was dead he roughly snatched his lance from its body. Blood sprayed in a maroon fountain, some even staining the dragoon face. He impassively wiped the liquid off before doing the same to the blade of his lance. Jaebum turned to continue but paused, his heart stuck in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispered lowly to dead ears. “I know that you’re only trying to defend your home,” Jaebum continued. He turned back to the corpse and kneeled beside it. He ran his fingers through its blood covered fur. “I understand,” he began before he stopped once again, passing his hands through his own raven hair. He sighed heavily. “What am I doing,” he questioned himself. 

Jaebum knew that what he was doing was wrong. He was losing himself. He knew. He wasn’t blind. He knew that he led the people that trusted him astray. He knew that coming to Windale would put them in danger. He knew that there was a chance that Imperial officers were still stationed here. Yet, he also knew that his dragon was here. 

After a _year_ he finally felt him. He felt his dragon’s pain, the agony that raged within his chest, and everything else seemed to matter so much less. He knew he was sacrificing them, betraying them. He broke their trust. He knew. Yet he no longer cared.

He wanted to tell them, but he also knew that none of them would understand. None of them could comprehend the utter emptiness he’s felt for the past year. They couldn’t relate to the stark loneliness he felt. They would never feel the blinding anger that bubbled in the pit of his chest every single day – every time he remembered what he’s done. They couldn’t even fathom the soul-retching guilt he felt for leaving someone he loved so much so defenseless. 

Jaebum closed his eyes, fist forming at his thighs. He would forever regret the day he placed his dragon within someone else’s hands. None of them could understand that type of regret, and what it felt like to live with it. So the dragoon had to lie. He had to scheme. He had to do everything he could to fix what he had done. 

He jerked away from the warg wolf, whatever affection he held towards it evaporating in the heat of his anger. He couldn’t turn back now.

Before he could walk away, his chest exploded in a searing hot pain. He screamed from the force of it. Clutching his chest, he gasped as the pain heightened. “Ifrit,” he muttered through clenched teeth, “What are they doing to you?” He then stumbled to his feet, his vision blurring as he shifted. “I’m coming,” he declared, “No matter what, I’m coming.” He’ll morn for his actions later. Now, he had to save Ifrit. Jaebum broke from the trees, leaving the forest and his mistakes within their branches.

\---------- 

The brick building was in the middle of a clearing. It sat surrounded by flattened willows and rotting foliage. It was small in stature, obviously cheaply made and not well kept. Cracks ran up its walls and the roof was caved due to fallen debris. From afar it seemed unassuming. It gave the impression that it was an abandoned relic from a time long pass. However, Jaebum knew better. He knew that the real structure was housed underneath. He knew that his dragon was housed underneath. 

He walked carefully to the structure, his movements minimalistic but well-trained and certain. **“Remove yourself from here.”** Jaebum tensed, his shoulders held to his ears. He was not expecting that. He held his lance within his nimble fingers, his chin touching a raised shoulder as he eyed his surroundings. **“You don’t belong here,”** the voice started again shrill and child-like. The sound sent a chill down Jaebum’s spine. He instantly swallowed the unsettling feeling. He knew there weren’t much in this forest that he should fear. Instead the former commander remembered his training and looked around himself carefully. The clearing was empty except for the fallen trees that littered the ground and the dilapidated brick building that sat eerily still in the center. **“Remove yourself, NOW,”** the voice screamed in a panic.

Jaebum snorted. “If you want me gone,” he answered, “You’ll have to remove me yourself.” The dragoon continued to hold his lance by his side, his stance causal but his grip tight. Nothing was going to keep him away from his dragon. “Come out,” Jaebum ordered. His voice was nearly conversational as he awaited their response, when he received none he repeated himself. “Come out,” the dragoon then growled from deep in his throat, “so I can finish you quickly.” His deep timber echoed along the clearing, vanishing into the darkened sky. Then, just as the dragoon commanded, the lumber beneath his feet began to rumble and the voices’ owners came to meet him. 

Slowly they emerged from the clearing floor, limbs untwisting as they stood. Sickening cracking sounds reverberated across the clearing as they shoved their bones back into place. Five child-like bodies surfaced from the fallen willow branches. Jaebum swallowed thickly, shock and fear bubbling within his chest. Just what the hell was he up against? **“Remove yourself,”** the closest figure bellowed, the sound loud enough to disturb the birds in the forest behind them. Despite the words, Jaebum noticed that the creatures had no mouth to emit the sound from out of. 

“What are you,” Jaebum questioned. The dragoon didn’t get an answer. Instead low murmuring rumbled through the forest – a constant sound. “Chanting,” Jaebum breathed confused. “Wait,” he backed up and held his lance across his chest, “A spell!”

Dozens of tall fire towers erupted from the fallen trees, lighting the entire clearing on fire. Jaebum deftly leapt out of the way, jumping high and disappearing into the night sky. The fire pillars followed. They reached high enough to wrap around the length of his ankles, struggling to pull him to the ground. The dragoon easily ignored the lick of fire and landed powerfully on one of the creatures. The two slid across the blazed clearing, Jaebum with his lance held across the other’s throat. The child-like body crumpled under his weight, falling instantly to the ground in a jumble of mangled limbs. The dragoon held the other down, but as he parted his lips to speak heat erupted across his back and within his chest. The fire burnt Jaebum’s clothing; his tank was left in shreds, but his skin was completely unscathed. **“Different,”** the creature under him spoke.

Steam slowly wafted up the dragoon’s back, his shirt flayed, but Jaebum didn’t even flinch. “Stop,” he ordered. He pinned the other further down, nearly burying him within the rubble. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he continued. The clearing sat in silence after Jaebum spoke. The empty air was eerie, lifelessly still. Then chanting began beneath him. “Stop,” Jaebum ordered again. However the chanting just rose in volume. The others began to join in. “Your spells won’t work against me,” Jaebum continued. He was nearly shouting now. Yet the chanting didn’t stop. Pain flared in Jaebum’s chest, burning and writhing uncontrollably. “Stop,” the dragoon bellowed. They didn’t. Another fire pillar erupted across his back, leaving his skin unscathed but his chest enflamed. The dragoon growled loudly before he finally pulled his lance back and unthinkingly slashed the creature’s throat. Blood sprayed violently across his face and Jaebum felt his breath catch. “No,” he whispered, “No.” Killing wolves was one thing, but killing something that resembled a child was something else. “Stop,” the dragoon muttered dejectedly to the dead body below him, “Why didn’t you stop?” He pulled off the body, his lance limp in his hand. What has he done? 

His chest seared in blinding pain again, and the dragoon dropped his loose hold on his lance to grab his chest. Pain traveled from his pecks and up his throat. It felt as though he was moments away from spitting flames. However, it never hurt like this before. In the distance, the dragoon could hear the chanting growing louder. He could feel as fire pillars erupted around him, trapping him. Sweat beaded along Jaebum’s forehead and holes were beginning to form in his cargos. The pain danced within him, blooming in his head, through his fingers, behind his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. Then it all stopped. 

Ice – once Jaebum opened his eyes again all he could see was ice. The once raging fire was doused in frost. The surround trees and debris were covered in snow. The child-like creatures were frozen solid in blocks of towering ice, their chants abruptly ceased. “Blizzaga,” the dragoon asked as he continued to look around. It was as though the clearing was hit with a mighty blizzard. Snow piled up to his ankles, ice dangled from the branches of fallen trees. It was unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Although he asked, Jaebum knew that no blizzaga could do something like this. He picked himself up along with his lance, not even noticing that he was on his knees. “What happened?”

“Blizzaja,” a voice sounded from behind the dragoon. The raven snapped at the sound, turning to see Jinyoung as he emerged from the forest. The mage was surly a sight for sore eyes. He crossed the frozen clearing with poise, gracefully weaving between frozen fire pillars to get to the dragoon that staggered in between them. “Much stronger than some silly blizzaga,” Jinyoung finished. He stood in front of Jaebum, so close that the dragoon could easily see the worry still etched upon his features. “Good to know that you’re not dead,” the black mage commented off-handedly.

Jaebum sighed, though he didn’t know if it was due to relief or frustration. “What are you doing here, Jinyoung,” he asked as he stumbled on his feet. The mage did not dignify the question with an answer, instead placing a hand along Jaebum’s back to steady him. “I asked you to trust me,” Jaebum continued. The mage gave him a wicked smirk for his blatant hypocrisy, and the dragoon knew that the deserved whatever the mage was about to give to him. 

“Trust,” Jinyoung snorted. The word sounded disgusting on his tongue. “You dare lecture me about trust,” he continued. He laughed into the night, the sound full yet so very bitter. He paused for a second, getting a tighter grip on Jaebum’s torso. He dug his lengthy fingers into the other’s ribs – let his nails dig moons into the other’s skin. “If you want me to trust you,” he began menacingly and low, “Then I need for you to trust me.”

Jaebum frowned. “I do trust you,” the dragoon mumbled. He settled into the mage’s arms; he let the other dig into him as they stumbled across the snow. He could see Jinyoung’s anger from the corners of his eyes. He could see his hurt. He didn’t know that he meant so much to the other. Jaebum was still confused on where their partnership exactly stood, but in moments like these, he could see himself meaning something to Jinyoung. He could see Jinyoung meaning something to him and that was the scariest thing of all. “I told you to stay,” he continued more clearly, “Not because I don’t trust you, but because I do.” Jinyoung stopped then, the paused so sudden it nearly cause the two of them to face plant into the snow. “I trust you to look after the people that I couldn’t,” Jaebum finished, “The people that needed it the most.” He could feel Jinyoung’s eyes on him. They were unsure and suspicious, yet the mage still rolled them. Then Jaebum knew that they were fine for now. There will be many questions later. There will be many doubts, but he’ll handle those when they come. 

“It seems like you were the one that needed it most,” Jinyoung smirked. Jaebum snorted in kind. It was the mage’s way of saying that he’ll focus on saving Jaebum’s dragon for now. The mage didn’t say anything more. He didn’t ask why he left, and he didn’t ask why he lied. The dragoon was sure that the mage already knew the answers to those questions and Jinyoung didn’t like asking questions he already knew that answers to. He just followed, and Jaebum never thought that he’d be the person that Jinyoung would just follow.

“Thank you,” Jaebum muttered. Jinyoung simply nodded. He didn’t need to go into detail on what he was grateful for. If he did, Jaebum wouldn’t know where to start. He only hoped that the mage’s forgiveness would be on that list. He let things fall into silence soon after, the two heading toward the abandon building. “You saved my life,” Jaebum finally spoke again, “That was rather heroic of you. You may become a hero if you’re not too careful.”

Jinyoung laughed. It was full and free of bitter – genuine. “I doubt if I’m saving little girls from Behemoths anytime soon,” the mage laughed. “Besides,” he continued, “You saved my life.” He turned and looked Jaebum in the eyes, deep wrinkles creasing around his as he smiled. “I can offer you a little gentleness,” he smiled, “You’re one of the few.” 

They walked in silence again, letting their words mend their bond, before Jaebum paused as they came upon one of the frozen corpses. Red oozed from within the ice. More blood slowly gushed out from a crack in the sculpture. “Wait,” Jaebum said. He broke from Jinyoung’s hold in order to get closer. The slice in the creature’s neck showed clearly from this vantage point. “I slit his throat,” the dragoon exclaimed. The dead eyes, the silenced voice – Jaebum was sure that the thing was dead. “I killed this one.”

Jinyoung looked from over the other’s shoulder. He could also see the wound, skin slowly overlapping the cut while still in the ice. “It’s healing,” Jinyoung stated. He placed his hand onto the iced incasing, the frozen block slowly liquefying under the mage’s touch. “We should go,” he said as he took his hand away. The eyes behind the ice followed the movement. “They’ll thaw soon,” he finished. 

“But I killed it,” Jaebum mumbled. He back away from the frozen creature, its eyes following him as he moved. “What’s going on,” he asked. He then forced his eyes away, facing Jinyoung. The black mage had a hardened look in his eyes. His delighted wrinkles were long gone. 

“What the Imperials wanted me to become,” Jinyoung answered. The words set a chill down both of their spines.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my ff fans, I know that Ifrit isn't a dragon, but imagine him as one - that's JB's dragon. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and thanks for you guys patience.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on Asian Fanfics (2016/2017)


End file.
